The Good Witch of the South
by Leia Emberblaze
Summary: Despite all its attempts at accuracy history is forgetful. There are always holes in the story that time eventually fills in. All of Oz remembers the witches of the west, east and north but what about the south? What about the witch that history forgot?
1. Leaving Home

**This is a new venture on my part; trying to write an honest to Oz, descriptive, thoroughly edited story. So far my only publications on this site have been successful but not particularly deep fangirlish entries (don't be fooled; I love those dear little stories to death, they're just not the epitome of my writing talent. Hopefully this story will delve a little deeper into my writing potential. It's an experiment, but I hope you'll be willing to go along with me. **

**Please note that this story is written in the Musical Universe with references to events, and details of the book.**

"Shiz?" Leyen let the foreign word slide over her tongue like a gulp of water. "Why would you send me there?"

"Well you're getting older," her mother reminded as she often did. "Your father and I can't take care of you forever."

"I could move into Fede," Leyen suggested brightly, naming a quadling village somewhere in the bog land between the Emerald City and Qhoyre. Though born in Gillikin with hair so fair it was almost white Leyen was a quadling in all the ways that mattered. Ever since her parents, ambitious ruby prospectors, brought her to the south she'd became enchanted with the ruddy skinned swamp people. Their communal ways and rich culture drew her like a woodmoth to a lamp. She spent her days diving for clamfish with the native girls and her nights sleeping in a wooden hut of woven reeds.

"No, that's ok," her mother insisted in a sharp, nervous tone. "You spend _far_ too much time with those muddy savages. We're sending you to Shiz so you can live with civilized girls." Leyen's delicate face creased in naive puzzlement. The girl's simple life was reflected in her friendly mind and trusting heart. One result of this odd demeanor was an innocent inability to understand negative implications.

"When will I be leaving?" Being the gentle, interested creature that he was Leyen was willing to go.

"Tomorrow," her father said sternly in his no-nonsense tone. "Early in the morning."

"I'll be ready," Leyen assured them, curtsying as she'd been taught. With a brief but genuine smile she left her parents to bicker about whatever it was that currently irked them. Once outside the blonde pulled off her immaculate, white shoes and set them on the sandy boards of the sweeping porch. Like most of the Gillikinese who, by some misfortune or another, found themselves in the south she lived in Qhoyre, the most developed of the quadling cities. Her parents' house was grand and well furnished, but it would never be her real home just as the pompous couple inside would never be her real family.

/

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" wondered Purus, a quadling teenager with cropped black hair. Her elegant face was pulled into a forlorn expression at Leyen's news. The two friends were speaking Qua'ati; the language of the bogs.

"College lasts four years," the blonde girl explained. That little bit of Gillikinese knowledge fell like a chasm already growing between them.

"What could possibly take four years to learn?" The quadling's reddish forehead was creased with uneasy thought.

"Smart stuff," Leyen chirped as brightly as she could manage. "You know; math and reading and science."

"We quadlings don't know about any of that," Purus sighed. "But we get along just fine. Why is it that Gillikinese need to waste their life learning these things?"

"I don't know," Leyen admitted, moving her pale legs through the smooth, oily water of the south. "Maybe the Gillikinese are silly." Despite her heritage the blonde fancied herself a child of the swamps. Purus opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the squelching sound of approaching feet.

"What's wrong?" inquired Fieb, a middle aged woman with twisted, midnight hair. In her younger days she'd traveled to Munchkin Land the Gillikin in search of a better life. Fieb found what she was looking for right where she'd started. "You two look about as jumpy as cooked marshfrogs."

"Yenlay's going to Shiz," Purus informed her, staring through a blur of tears. Yenlay was the quadling form of Leyen. "Her parents are making her leave."

"No, I want to go," Leyen argued, though her woeful tone was not convincing.

"They're trying to make you into a proper Gillikinese society girl," Fieb observed sagely, bending down to wrap her warm arms around the now weeping blonde.

"I don't want to be Gillikinese," she protested. "I want to live in the swamps and reap the riches of the water and sleep in villages that drift with the whim of the river."

"It's ok," the older woman soothed. "They can put you in fancy dresses and elegant ballrooms but they can't do a thing about your childhood here." Purus wormed her way into the two person embrace.

"Promise you'll come back and visit," she whimpered.

"I promise," Leyen sniffled. They stayed curled in that hug until the sun dipped its toes into the marshy horizon.

"It's time for you to leave," Fieb said softly, pulling the heartsick blonde to her feet. She reached into her cloth tunic and removed a woven hemp necklace adorned with one of the largest rubies Leyen had ever seen. It was carved into the shape of a teardrop and dangled like a translucent prick of dazzling blood. "Take it," Fieb instructed, folding Leyen's hesitant hands around the gift. "Promise me that, no matter what wonders the rest of Oz may show you, you won't forget us."

"I promise."

/

Galinda Upland was buzzing with excitement. Her small body just couldn't contain the bubble of joy ballooning in her chest. The velvet carriage seat on which she sat suffered a fair amount of enthusiastic bouncing. Sweet Oz, she was going to _Shiz_! Not all girls were lucky enough to attend college at all, but here she was on her way to one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Just thinking about it made her heart swell with pride. Clearly the acceptance to Shiz was a sign of brilliance; a sign that she had earned the carefree, party laden life that came with such an acceptance.

Her sparkling blue eyes drifted out the open window. A flirtatious breeze teased her golden curls. She was beginning to contemplate how stunning her appearance must be when a traveler trekking beside the road caught her eye.

"Driver stop!" she commanded, though her sing-song voice pronounced it more like a question. The carriages, for there was another carrying her numerous belongings, screeched to a shuddering halt and Galinda threw the engraved door open. "Do you need a ride?" the blonde called to a white haired traveler of about her same age. It wasn't that Galinda enjoyed giving rides to every wayfaring stranger, but this girl looked safe enough and the journey had long ago gotten tedious.

Leyen looked up from her gaze on the gritty dirt road. "I'm fine with walking; it's not far to Shiz," she replied. "But if you want a traveling companion I'd be more than happy to oblige." She was already tired to using proper Ozian grammar, the harsh language itself was enough, and longed to slip back into her familiar quadling speech pattern.

"Come in," Galinda beckoned. "I'm bored and those suitcases look heavy." She swept a disdainful glance over the blonde girl's weathered, leather luggage. Leyen climbed into the coach with a shrug, setting her bags on the carpeted floor. "So you're going to Shiz?" Galinda questioned, hungry for conversation.

"Yes," the pale blonde answered.

"Where did you walk from?" the petite girl inquired as the carriage continued moving. She didn't even think to ask her guest's name. "Couldn't your parents hire a coach?"

"They did," Leyen responded. "I wanted to walk the last few miles."

"Why would you want to do that?" Galinda gasped.

"I like being outside," the guest explained. Her petite companion was quite baffled by this. Still she happily filled the rest of the ride with shallow conversation about the latest Ozian fashions. Leyen, who knew nothing of such things, just smiled and nodded politely. When they rolled onto the paved roads of Railway Square the smaller of the two blondes departed to arrange further transportation for her luggage.

"See you later!" Galinda called to her traveling companion as she flounced away. Leyen was bewildered by the high walled buildings, so solemn and stern. They were severe mountains of brownstone framed with thick blankets of perfect grass. Rivers of creamy sidewalk curved through this tame greenery from structure to structure. Only a few well trimmed trees could be seen dotting the lawn.

Though she wanted to kick off her pinch toed shoes and pad through the soft grass Leyen remembered her mother's firm instructions and set off down the sidewalk towards a building labeled 'Main Hall'. Many confused freshers were milling about inside, peeking at the wrinkled schedules in their hands. Leyen attempted to mingle with the other girls her age, merging into a circle of gossiping students. "Did you see her?" hissed a heavily built brunette.

"See who?" wondered a bony, beanpole of a girl with dirty blonde hair. "What are you going on about Pfannee?"

"She was _green_," Pfannee, the brunette, explained.

"You mean seasick?" inquired the bony one, eyes sharp and rat-like.

"No, Shenshen, aren't you listening?" Pfannee demanded. "Her skin was green as sin."

"Are you sure?" Shenshen questioned doubtfully. "That's hard to believe and you tend to exaggerate."

"Just wait. You'll see," Pfannee huffed, crossing her thick arms.

"Oh hello," greeted a third girl, noticing Leyen for the first time. "What's your name?" She had pale brown tresses and, to her credit, had remained quiet throughout Shenshen and Pfannee's discussion.

"I'm Leyen," the blonde replied with a shy but open smile.

"I'm Milla," the friendly girl introduced in response. "These are Pfannee and Shenshen."

"I'm delighted to meet you," Leyen said, drawing on her long ago etiquette lessons.

"Where are you from?" Shenshen queried.

"A village called Fede in Quadling Country," she informed them proudly.

"Why in Oz would you live down there?" Pfannee gasped in obvious disdain. "You're clearly Gillikinese."

"My parents were ruby prospectors," the blonde explained, puzzled by their disgusted reactions. However, before the conversation could progress any further, Pfannee's breath hitched and she pointed rudely at something behind Leyen.

"There she is!" the brunette exclaimed triumphantly. As one entity the three others turned to set their wondering eyes on a newcomer. She had a fierce, angular, but undeniably pretty face and long raven hair. Her fiery eyes were the same intricate brown as beautiful southern mud. The most noticeable feature, though, was her brilliant emerald skin tone. Leyen was surprised to see looks of repulsion on her classmates' faces. Sure this girl's coloring was exotic and unique, but she saw nothing ugly or unattractive about it. In fact, Leyen already felt close to this stranger. It was clear that the green girl was just as much an oddity here as she was. The only difference was that Leyen _looked_ like everyone else.

**I'm testing the waters with this story so some detailed reviews would be very helpful. Criticism (constructive or otherwise) is also welcome.**


	2. Welcome to Shiz

**In response to merina; first of all thanks for the detailed review, it was very flattering, second I just want to point out that Leyen grew up around quadlings who basically have bright red skin (some with rosy tints and some more brownish or pinkish than red…it all depends on the complexion) therefore odd skin color is not something she'd find particularly shocking especially having witnessed the contrast between herself and the quadlings her entire life…**

**Also to respond to Phases of Obesssion's concern about Leyen becoming a Mary-Sue (I actually looked the term up on Wikipedia before you messaged me back and discovered that there is a long article describing the different variations of Mary-Sues)…don't worry she has flaws and I don't think of her as an author's pet…in fact I like Selky way more than I like Leyen (which is a horrible thing to say about my characters but it's true…maybe Leyen will grown on me)…**

**Either way I'd like you readers to let me know if Leyen is at all drifting towards Mary-Sue territory…(sorry for the obscenely long author's note)**

"This is your private suite," Madame Morrible, Shiz's carp-like headmistress, informed Leyen, sweeping open the door to a spacious room. The walls throbbed with rich, peachy color and soft carpeting fell across the floor like a layer of snowy flower petals. It fairly reeked of expensive newness and felt too immaculate to live in. Decedent couches, chairs, and desks furnished the front room, which possessed a nice little fireplace. The largest of the rooms was empty but for a fine dresser and two wooden frames heaped with puffy blankets. Leyen supposed these were meant to be beds, though they better resembled mounds of drifting bog foam. Where were the reed mats she was so accustomed to? "I trust you won't take advantage of the money your parents paid for you to have this," the headmistress said sternly. "My quarters are across the hall and I will not tolerate loud parties running into the night." With that she exited, striding through a door opposite that of Leyen's.

Galinda Upland was the only other girl to have a private suite, and she was now unwillingly sharing it with Elphaba Thropp, the green one. Though there were two beds Leyen would be alone in her room. It was so strange; she didn't care for this absurd luxury, yet there were a thousand others who would gladly take her place. Unwilling to dwell on all the unusual occurrences of the day Leyen began to unpack her meager belongings. The clothes wilted into her massive closet, which was clearly meant to house a more extravagant collection of garments.

Leyen was interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. She opened it to find a girl about her age seated in a wheelchair. This was Elphaba's sister, Nessarose, the one who was 'a perfectly normal color'. By now all of Shiz knew about the infamous Thropp sisters. "Hello," Leyen greeted. Nessarose had a sort of wavy caramel colored hair, somewhere between blonde honey and brunette chocolate. Her features were softer than Elphaba's; filled with vibrant, young life instead of subdued bitterness. The full weight of the hefty world had not yet settled on Nessa's fragile shoulders.

"Madame Morrible told me you'd be our new neighbor," the invalid explained, smiling at Leyen. "I'll be staying with her throughout the year." She didn't look too thrilled at this prospect.

"That must be interesting," the blonde replied. "I'm Leyen by the way."

"It's very nice to meet you," Nessarose responded. "I'm sure you already know who I am; my sister made quite a spectacle in the Main Hall."

"Her power _is_ impressive," Leyen conceded with a nod. "I've never seen anyone use magic with such ease." Quadling sorcerers were some of Oz's best healers but Elphaba's power was in a different class altogether.

"She hardly needs to reveal her magic in order to stand out," Nessarose murmured.

"Hello girls." Madame Morrible breezed out of her private rooms, facial powder newly applied. "I believe it's time for dinner."

/

Shiz's dining hall was packed with elegant quoxwood tables, all large enough to seat about ten students. A buffet counter took up one side of the room, spread with all kinds of steaming delicacies. After filling a plate Nessarose wheeled past Elphaba, who sat alone at a vacant table, for a brief greeting before joining some other friendly looking students. In truth the green girl was accustomed to such treatment, even from her beloved sister. Though she made an attempt not to care Elphaba truly hated new schools. New schools meant new people and new people meant new eyes to stare at her, new mouths to sneer at her, and new fingers to point at her. Even here at Shiz, where the students were supposed to be highly mature, she was treated as a carnival freak meant to be gawked at by others.

In this crammed room Elphaba could feel a thousand curious gazes tracking her every move. When the pressure of so many onlookers became too much she swept the tables with a fierce glare, leveling each and every pair of eyes trained on her skin. Except for one. Baffled Elphaba examined the girl who didn't look away. She had very light blonde hair that looked white when illuminated and vivid green eyes. Her chair was parked between Galinda and one of her cronies, a chunky brunette. It was clear to the green girl that this blonde did not belong in that nest of gossipy vipers.

/

Leyen watched Elphaba with wonderment, but not malice. In fact she was considering whether or not to join the green pariah at her empty table. Galinda and her pack of friends, which included Shenshen, Pfannee and Milla, had welcomed Leyen with open arms, but their chatter gave her a dull headache. "Doesn't she look lonely?" the blonde observed, allowing her thoughts to flow out into the world. Everyone swiveled their heads to follow her gaze.

"She deserves it," Galinda sniffed. "Who could sit with someone so…so…"

"Green?" Shenshen supplied.

"Exactly," Galinda exclaimed brightly.

"I don't know how you can stand to room with her," Pfannee huffed. "It must be horrendible."

"Oh it is," the petite blonde assured her. "But life can't be all pleasantries; we must endure our share of hardships."

"You're a saint," Milla sighed, sympathetically patting her friend's hand. "I don't think it's fair for _anyone_ to endure such hardship." Leyen was quickly learning that Shiz and its students weren't quite as friendly as she'd imagined. Though outwardly cordial these frivolous girls were full of nothing but hostility towards those unlike them. Did they really enjoy ravaging Elphaba so much?

With a mild groan the fair haired girl turned to her meal; roast beef with gravy and a lumpy mound of rosy sweet potatoes. She bowed her head and muttered a quick prayer of thanks in Qua'ati. It was a relief to speak the flowing, rich words of swamp tongue in a familiar ritual. "What are you doing?" Pfannee asked.

"Thanking Heway for the life of the animal this meat came from." Stunned silence hung openly on the table and Leyen averted her eyes, realizing she'd made a mistake of some sort. Conversing with these society girls was an obstacle course of potential pitfalls.

"Did you learn that from the _quadlings_?" Shenshen demanded in a somewhat disgusted tone.

"We try to practice the traditions of the natives while we're in the south," Leyen fibbed, attempting to recover. "I always thought it was silly but my parents are adamant about it." This was a flat out lie; she'd never referred to her adopted family as 'the natives'. Not in her entire life.

"They aren't watching you now," Galinda pointed out briskly, tucking the awkward disturbance into the past. "Did you know Glimmer House is releasing a new line of silk sleeved dresses?" Immediately Leyen's blunder was forgotten, upstaged by Oz's newest fashion. Still the blonde's face burned with shame. How did those awful words manage to get out of her mouth? How could she even consider verbalizing such things?

/

"So your parents paid for a private suite?" Nessarose queried as she and Leyen moved through the corridors of Crage Hall on the way to their respective rooms.

"Apparently," the blonde shrugged. "I didn't know about it until I got here."

"My father would've paid for one," the invalid sighed. "But he suggested that Madame Morrible look after me. He doesn't think I can do anything for myself." This fact seemed to irritate her beyond belief.

"Having my own room isn't so great," Leyen assured her, trying to diffuse the sudden tension. "There's a second bed and a nice little parlor that I know I'll never use. It's not like I have much of a social life."

"You will," Nessarose snorted, somewhat enviously. By now they had reached their doors. "After all you're hanging out with Galinda Upland."

/

Leyen couldn't sleep that night. Gillikin's temperature was much cooler than the steamy air of the south and it had the blonde's skin prickling with unease. The chill made her feel exposed and venerable, so she lit a small fire in the hearth and let the blaze wash her face in warmth. A tentative knock pattered against her door and she jumped ever so slightly. Outside Nessarose sat in a pale nightgown, her face apologetic and sheepish. "Could I maybe sleep in here tonight?" she asked quietly. "Madame Morrible snores…loudly."

"Sure," Leyen chuckled, stepping aside to allow her guest entrance.

"Isn't it a little warm for a fire?"

"It feels cold to me," the blonde explained. "I spent most of my life in the south; this is the first time I can remember being out of Quadling Country."

"It's my first time out of Munchkin Land," Nessa admitted. Leyen pushed the bedroom door open and followed her inside.

"Really? You don't look…well short."

"The Governor is my father," she explained. "Most Munchkin Land nobility married into height decades ago. It's a sign of status." There was a pause. "What about you? I mean, you don't exactly look like a quadling."

"My parents were ruby prospectors." Nessa nodded knowingly, as if she knew all about the wave of Gillikinese citizens that had rushed into Quadling Country at the slightest hint of money to be made. She parked her chair next to one of the beds. "Do you…err…need any help?" Leyen wondered awkwardly.

"No!" the munchkinlander snapped. With significant effort she heaved herself onto the big mattress, her face contorted with determination. Nessa shuffled her lower body beneath the thick blankets and Leyen followed suit, slipping into her own bed. "Thanks for letting me stay over," the invalid said softly. "Tomorrow I'll get some cotton earplugs."

"That's ok," the blonde insisted. "I don't mind sharing."

"Well I don't want to intrude…"

"It was actually getting kinda creepy alone in here at night," Leyen told her. That wasn't really true, she'd spent nights asleep on a floating outdoor mat with alligators and bush cats nearby, but Nessarose would feel guilty if she didn't make some excuse.

"Alright then," the munchkinlander agreed. "If you really don't mind…"

"Not at all."

**I realized that I got the name for the quadling language wrong…I didn't realize there was actually a word for it in the book…anyway it's fixed now…**

**One of my goals for this story is to develop the minor characters a little bit more; specifically Nessarose and Chistery…now I'm not saying Nessa is a minor character but she doesn't have as large a roll as some other characters and we don't get to learn a whole lot about her personality at Shiz (before she becomes bitter and obsessed with Boq)…the point is I haven't actually done much work with Nessarose so it would be helpful if you guys would let me know whether or not I'm characterizing her correctly..thanks!**


	3. Poppies

**I've always been curious about the poppies that put Dorothy and her friends to sleep in the 'Wizard of Oz'…real poppies, in case you didn't know, do not put people to sleep unless you eat their seeds, which contain a mild sedative…so I've been curious; what makes Ozian poppies different and why does snow counteract them (I know I'm a dork to be thinking so hard about all this but hopefully it works in the story)**

**Also I want to be clear that this scene is not the classroom scene from the musical; that scene took place after the students had been at Shiz for a week or two (otherwise why would Dr. Dillamond be handing back their essays?)…this is the first time they are all in Dr. D's class…**

Leyen was thrilled to learn that her History professor was a Goat. In the south there were Animals everywhere; two Alligators and a troop of Monkeys lived in and around Fede. However here in Gillikin there were significantly less Animals. In fact the blonde had only seen one; a Shrew pushing Galinda's luggage cart on the first day.

Dr. Dillamond had a kind face and warm eyes. Leyen offered him a smile and opted for a bench beside Nessa's chair rather than one near Galinda and her cronies. The green girl was quick to join them. "Elphaba this is Leyen," Nessarose introduced.

/

"It's nice to meet you," the onyx haired student replied, extending a hand. She was pleasantly surprised when Leyen took it.

"Pleasure's all mine," the blonde responded. Elphaba was somewhat baffled by this courteous behavior, but she quickly shrugged off her unease. Leyen _clearly_ wasn't the type of person to try any tricks on her. Across the classroom Galinda gossiped loudly with Pfannee and Shenshen. Their high, tinkling conversation made the green girl want to puke.

"Do you have a problem with Miss Upland?" Nessarose queried, noticing her sister's distraction.

"She irritates me."

"Why?"

"Because she's an empty headed blonde with a perfect life and the most annoying mannerisms I've ever witnessed."

"Being born into a rich family isn't a sin," the invalid chided. "You sat with Galinda yesterday didn't you Leyen?" The blonde nodded and averted her eyes as if guilty of some heinous crime.

"Yes," she admitted. "I've got no quarrel with Galinda herself but those friends of hers are like a bushel of nosiop roundblooms."

"Her friend's are like what?" Elphaba inquired, arching a raven eyebrow.

"Nosiop roundblooms," Leyen repeated. "I'm pretty sure they grow throughout all of Oz. They're tall as cattails with green stems and huge scarlet blossoms."

"Oh you mean Ozian poppies," Nessarose realized. "I saw a field of them on the way here."

"How are Galinda's disciples like Ozian poppies?" the green girl questioned, still puzzled.

"Well they're pretty but unlike other roundbloom flowers…"

"Poppies," Nessa corrected.

"Unlike other _poppies_ they're dangerous," Leyen continued. "The smell of their petals can put people in a sleep-like trance for days. Also, the black seeds in the center can be crushed up into a deadly poison."

"That's a nice analogy," Elphaba snickered. "Pfannee, Shenshen, and Milla; pretty but poisonous." She glanced over at the gaggle of girls in question. "Let's hope winter comes swiftly."

"Winter?" Leyen and Nessarose echoed in confusion.

"Ozian poppies react strongly to changes in temperature," the green girl explained wearily. "When it gets cold they close up and stop emitting the chemical that causes sleep."

"Don't pretend that's common knowledge," the invalid sniffed. "Only you would know such an obscure fact."

"Well facts are all I've got," Elphaba sighed as another of Galinda's derogatory nicknames reached her ears from across the classroom. Greenie, artichoke, vegetable. They were better than some. At least college students didn't get perverse delight out of degrading, sexual jokes.

"Class, class, class!" Dr. Dillamond called in his deep, gravelly voice. "It's time to begin the lesson."

/

"I propose that we enjoy our lunch on the lawn," Elphaba suggested rather abruptly as the crowded dining hall came into view. In such a small room she found the condensed atmosphere of insults and general disgust to be suffocating.

"I second that," Leyen murmured, feeling more and more comfortable with the Thropp sisters.

"Well that settles it," Nessa decided, heading towards the lunch line. As Leyen was following her new acquaintances into the hall a voice reached her across the din of so many conversations.

"Leyen!" Galinda called, beckoning the blonde to join her. Elphaba and Nessarose paused, waiting.

"Was there something you needed?" the southerner asked, warily approaching. She didn't take a seat.

"Sit with us," Milla suggested with that sweet grin of hers. Maybe these girls weren't so bad. Maybe they didn't even realize how cruel their behavior was.

"I'm actually spending my lunch with some other friends today," Leyen told Milla. "We're having a picnic of sorts on the lawn."

"It's not good weather for a picnic," Galinda chastened. "Why don't you invite your friends to join us?" Leyen's mouth pulled up at the corner.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." She was totally oblivious to her mistake until Leyen waved to the Thropp sisters.

"Galinda has invited you to sit with us," the southerner told them when they reached her, grinning a little. Shenshen's mouth was left hanging open as though it had suddenly lost its ability to close.

"How kind," Elphaba responded courteously, sending a venomous smile in the petite blonde's direction. Galinda swallowed her shock and returned the grin with similar sentiment. The green girl dropped rigidly into a chair and Nessa wheeled to a stop beside her.

"So," Milla began awkwardly. "Did you hear that they're wearing parrot feather hats in the Emerald City?"

"Of course!" Galinda squealed in excitement. Elphaba flinched.

"Could you refrain from using that Oz forsaken shriek when I'm around?" she requested. "Some of us wish to drink our water from _un-shattered_ glasses."

"Well what do _you_ think about the parrot feather hats Miss Elphaba?" Shenshen challenged, totally ignoring her jab at Galinda's voice.

"I think it's despicable for so many birds to be killed just for a fashion that will wear itself out within the week," she snapped. "It makes me sick."

"We can see that," Pfannee muttered. "You look positively _green_."

"You know what makes me sick?" Shenshen began. She didn't wait for an answer. "Dr. Dillamond. I heard he looked down Madame Morrible's dress the other day."

"That's a rumor," Elphaba retorted. "It was probably invented by someone with a lust for drama and not enough common sense to overrule it." Her eyes bored into Shenshen's.

"Whatever the case that Goat is quite annoying," Galinda chirped brightly. "He can't seem to say my name without spiting and hacking all over the place. Next time I swear I'm going to stand up and instruct him on how to enunciate it properly."

"Does your life consist of nothing but insulting those who aren't as immaculately perfect as you Miss Upland?" the green girl demanded, her voice simmering with thinly concealed anger.

"It appears the artichoke is steamed," Pfannee chuckled, clearly thinking herself quite clever. Other students seemed to agree as the saying would soon become a regular in the parade of insults that was Elphaba's life.

"I would rather be a prickly artichoke, capable of defending myself, than a delicate cream puff just waiting to be crushed by callous hands," the green girl snarled, jerking to her feet. "A hearty artichoke may live for years, but a cream puff spoils within a day. The passage of time will steal beauty, which fate has blessed you with in large quantities, yet it will have no effect on my hard earned knowledge." With that Elphaba marched out of the dining hall, cursing her disobedient temper.

/

Only a few people were milling about the main courtyard when Leyen crossed it in the late afternoon. The sun's last amber rays spread themselves lavishly across the thick grass. A tall brass statue, weathered by years of wind and graffiti, glowed with a hallo of golden illumination. This was Leyen's favorite time of day and she couldn't help wondering if Fieb and Purus were watching the sunset at home. Every student at Shiz was abuzz with a juicy bit of news, but the blonde hadn't been able to figure out what it was yet. She'd detected only snippets of gossip; something about a prince and a party.

"Leyen have you heard?" Nessarose cried, waving to her unofficial roommate. As often happens when teenage girls are excited, she didn't wait for an answer. "Fiyero Tiggular, prince of the Vinkus, came to Shiz today!" The invalid waited for a reaction, but none was forthcoming.

"Should I know who that is?" Leyen wondered, feeling very out-of-the-loop. Nessa smacked her forehead in exasperation.

"He's only the hottest man in the world."

"I see." The blonde southerner had yet to understand her friend's obsession with boys.

"Well he's throwing a party at the OzDust Ballroom," Nessarose continued. "Everyone's invited!"

"What kind of party?" This was another thing Leyen didn't know much about.

"I think it's a_ dance_ party," the invalid informed her, eyes darkening slightly.

"Are you going?" Leyen inquired. It seemed like an appropriate question.

"If someone asks me," Nessa retorted evasively, as if she doubted such a thing would happen.

"I just asked you," the blonde pointed out in puzzlement.

"I mean if a boy asks me to go to the party with him," Nessarose clarified. Almost subconsciously her eyes flickered towards something on the other side of the dimming courtyard. It was a munchkin boy in a pinstriped suit who was currently engaged in conversation with Galinda.

"Is there a _specific _boy?" Leyen queried, quickly catching on.

"His name's Boq," Nessa whispered. "I don't know much about him, but I think he might ask me out."

"And why would you assume a thing like that?" In Leyen's opinion this Boq boy appeared to be quite ordinary. His head was adorned with a disorganized mop of chocolaty brown hair. The round features of his innocent face seemed specifically designed to hold a boyish grin and large, sparkling eyes. These eyes, despite Nessa's theory, were focused on Galinda with all the loyalty and adoration of a lovesick puppy.

"He's clearly asking Galinda for girl advice," the invalid told her friend as Boq turned to approach them. "Look, here he comes."

"Miss Nessarose?" the munchkin began, bowing ever so slightly. "There's something I'd like to ask you."

**Sorry if the plot's been a little slow so far…it will get better…**


	4. Makeup

**Thank you Merina for your comment on Leyen…I definitely appreciate the detailed review…some character flaws are harder to show than others but I'm trying…I find that when people are in a new environment (Shiz for example) in which they are unsure their character is muted for awhile until they re-establish themselves…also Elphaba trusted Leyen so quickly because Leyen let Nessa move into her suite and Elphaba tends to trust people who are kind to her sister (I mean she took **_**Galinda**_**, whom she hated at that point, completely at her word about the hat because she helped hook Nessa up with Boq)…also Elphaba isn't really friends with Leyen, it's just that Elphaba spends most of her time with Nessa and Leyen is Nessa's friend so they end up together a lot…sorry if I haven't been as clear as I should be…**

**Note: I love detailed reviews that criticize my flaws more than two word reviews that praise my work…short reviews are good too but I like longer ones more…sorry for the rant…and Merina I wish u would sign your reviews more so I could PM you…**

Nessa had two dresses spread across her lumpy bed. One was an excruciatingly plain, blue number with a row of round, white buttons down the front. The other was much prettier with frothy pink ruffles and girlish shaping. "I take it you're going to the dance," Leyen observed.

"Boq asked if he could be my escort to the ball," Nessa gushed giddily. "He's so sweet and handsome; we deserve each other."

"You two will make a very cute couple," Leyen agreed. "Which dress are you wearing?"

"I can't decide," the invalid sighed, biting her lip in frustration. "Galinda lent me the pink one."

"I thought you weren't on good terms with Miss Upland," the blonde interjected.

"Well she helped set me up with Boq," Nessarose informed her puzzled friend. "He was too shy to ask me at first but Galina encouragerized him."

"Does Elphaba know about your change of heart?"

"She was suspicious at first," the invalid muttered, waving off her sister's wary nature. "But she just came by to tell me that Galinda gave her a nice hat for the dance. In fact Elphaba's going to speak with Madame Morrible about letting Galinda into her sorcery seminar."

"Well I'm sure that conversation will be _loads_ of fun," Leyen chuckled.

"Did you just use _sarcasm_?" Nessa gasped in mock horror.

"I think I did," the blonde replied smugly, quite pleased with herself. "Shiz is rubbing off on me." Every day Leyen felt more at ease in her new home and a little of the vibrant personality she'd had in Quadling Country returned. The southerner was settling into herself again. "I think you should wear the pink dress," she decided. "It's much more appropriate for a party."

"I know." For some reason Nessa's voice sounded reluctant, as though there was a hidden downside to the innocent looking garment.

"What's wrong?" Leyen knelt beside her friend.

"Nothing," the invalid assured her. "It's just that…well…the pink dress wasn't designed for me, so I'll probably need some help getting in and out of it." A rosy flush bled into her pale cheeks.

"Oh." The blonde considered this and a flower of coloring bloomed across her face as well. There weren't many things Leyen was bothered by. Blood, puss, infected wounds, dying animals, piles of stinking manure; such things had no effect on her. Nudity, however, was a different matter.

"I can get Elphaba to help me if you're uncomfortable," Nessa offered. This was one of those choices that defined a friendship; whether to plunge in deeper or retreat into a socially acceptable comfort zone.

"That's ok."

/

After helping Nessa Leyen slipped into an elegant white sheath adorned with shimmering waves of matched sequins. It wasn't something the blonde would've chosen, but those parents of hers insisted that she take at least one fancy outfit. When Leyen stepped out from behind the dressing screen her roommate's jaw plummeted.

"You look amazing," she enthused.

"So do you." It was true; Nessa looked like a sweet piece of flirtatious candy in Galinda's gown.

"No, I mean you look really, really good," the invalid insisted. She frowned. "But you can't wear a dress like that without makeup."

"What style?" Leyen queried gamely. Her stomach stirred with a flock of lively birds as she removed a large case of cosmetics from her suitcase, another request of her parents. Even in the southern swamps they'd been determined to make her into a right and proper lady. This meant private tutors and lessons in everything from ballroom dancing to the art of makeup.

"I don't know," Nessa stuttered. "Ask Galinda if you want an expert opinion; I hardly wear any myself."

"It's better not to," Leyen decided, appraising her pale reflection in the mirror. "That way, when you do wear makeup, the effect is greater."

"Tell Galinda that," the invalid chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen her without an artificial face of blush and polish." The blonde began to outline her luminous green eyes with a stick of sharp, black eyeliner. She smiled, as if at a fond memory.

"What?" Nessa queried.

"I tried to give my friend Purus a makeover once," Leyen admitted with a breezy laugh. "We were just little girls and I wanted an excuse to play with the extensive cosmetics kit my parents gave me. Somehow they thought spoiling me with lavish gifts would keep my heart out of the swamps." The southerner rolled her eyes, as though such an idea was completely absurd. "Anyway, I lugged that big box of makeup into the village and convinced Purus to let me use some on her. Eyeliner was the only stuff that worked since quadlings have that lovely red complexion, but Purus kept blinking. She was terrified that I would skewer her eyeball. Eventually we gave up and got into a blush fight and Fieb found us covered from head to toe in powder."

"That's hard to imagine," Nessarose pointed out. "You're always so quiet and refined."

"I've just been a little intimidated since I got here," the blonde shrugged. "Now that I'm adapting I'll soon be a carefree nature girl again." Leyen was suddenly struck with the thought that Nessa might have preferred a quiet, refined roommate.

"I can deal with that," the caramel haired girl replied with a gently amused smile. "Just don't bring any mud into the dorm."

"Ugh," Leyen gagged. "I wouldn't even want to bring any _Gillikin_ mud in here. It's way too gritty and thin." Now Nessa did seem a little taken aback.

"Are you really so interested in mud?"

"Yes," the southerner replied in a very matter-of-fact way. Nessa's face twisted into a mild grimace and tension crackled heavily through the air. "Are you really so interested in boys?" The awkward moment snapped into oblivion.

"Aren't you?"

"I don't think they deserve an above average measure of my attention."

"Well _you'll_ be getting an above average measure of _their_ attention in that dress," Nessa retorted. Her tone implied a certain level of envy.

"And you think you won't?" Leyen's words were gentle; she could sense that they were getting into touchy territory.

"I don't know," Nessarose shrugged, wringing her hands. "I've never really gotten along with other people my age. They all seem to offer me sympathy instead of friendship. Boys are likewise, you have no idea how many pity dates I've been on." She sighed and gauged Leyen's expression, wondering whether this rant was edging on her nerves. It wasn't. "I'm averagely pretty, so I feel like I deserve at least a little affection from boys, but this stupid chair gets in the way." Her soft brow creased with pent up frustration. "This chair seems to get in the way of everything I deserve." Silence stewed for a few contemplative moments.

"Maybe the chair doesn't matter as much as you think it does," Leyen murmured softly, though Nessa either didn't hear her or chose not to respond. More seconds ticked by. "Look!" the blonde exclaimed suddenly, rushing towards her window. A shooting star carved its blazing way across the velvety curtain of the night sky. "Make a wish."

"You saw it," Nessa protested, wheeling over to join her friend.

"Well I'm giving you my wish," Leyen insisted. "What do you want most in the world?"

"I wish…I wish that I could dance," the invalid whispered, her lips trembling ever so slightly.

**How was it? I'm still working on the Leyen character so let me know how I did with her in this chapter!**


	5. Dancing Through

**To the Witch's Cat: thanks so much for your EXTREMELY detailed review and great critique…and I know the beginning of this story may seem a little like a reiteration of the musical plot, but I HAD to do the scene with Nessa and Boq at the OzDust…**

**To Merina: hopefully you will continue reading this even if you don't like Leyen; I plan to focus not only on her but on other 'forgotten' aspects of the Wicked characters… (In terms of my OCs Leyen is also not my favorite…I like Selky **_**much**_** more but I though this story needed someone like her...)**

**To Grace Cannon; thanks for the idea…and don't worry, there is a quadling boy in Leyen's future…just be patient…also Leyen's equivalent of Galinda's 'wand moment' is coming and it will definitely bring out her layers...**

**To everyone else: let me know how you feel about Leyen…if the majority of my readers feel that she's too nice or too character-less or becoming a Mary-Sue let me know because I'll want to make changes… so far I've been pretty successful with OCs but if this one needs tweaking I'll be more than happy to do it! thanks!**

As far as fancy party locales go the OzDust Ballroom has no equal. The vaulted ceiling was a dizzying landscape of hammered copper and feathery swirls of gold. Dazzling chandeliers, like fountains of gossamer glass, decorated the dance floor with crystal spatters of light. A few elegant shadows were drawn over the furthest corners, allowing ample space for couples that wished to forsake the fray of dancing feet for more private quarters. The smooth floor was warm, bronze granite emblazoned with lightning strikes of crackling amber color, like veins of molten fire.

Nessa's jeweled shoes with alive with silvery bursts of brilliancy as Boq wheeled her into the ballroom. He was wearing a metallic bronze suit and charming red cap. Boq's clothes didn't mesh perfectly with the blacks and whites of most dancers, but they looked nice on him.

Although Leyen's outfit didn't possess bright colors it certainly caught everyone's attention. Those long ago makeup classes had done their job; she'd successfully erased her face with powder and drawn it back out in a collage of warm pigment and dark, scorching eyes. Combined with her tightly fitted dress this look attracted the gaze of most males in the ballroom. It took the student body a few moments to realize that this was Leyen, the shy, innocent girl from Quadling Country. As their shock drifted away most people returned to waltzing, though a few dateless boys continued to watch the blonde in speculation.

"Would you care to dance?" came a nervous voice. Leyen turned to see a tall boy with black hair and friendly eyes offering her his hand. She took it with a shy nod.

/

"What's in the punch?"

"Lemons and melons and pears."

"Oh my." Nessa was having a lovely time with Boq. The munchkin was very sweet and seemed content to stand and talk with her while everyone else waltzed across the ballroom. "You know, I won't mind if you want to take a turn on the dance floor," Nessa offered.

"Why would I want to do that?" Boq questioned, as if she'd suggested that he light the OzDust on fire.

"You don't enjoy dancing?"

"Dancing at a dance is just so typical," the munchkin shrugged evasively, as his eyes tracked Galinda and her handsome Winkie. Guilt clutched at Boq's heart. "Listen Nessa…"

"Yes?" the invalid chirped eagerly.

"Uh Nessa, I've got something to confess." Her face, which had been bright and fresh with untainted excitement, crumpled in disappointment. She'd heard those words enough to understand where this was going. "The reason why, well, why I asked you here tonight. And I know it isn't fair…"

"Oh Boq I know why," Nessa sighed.

"You do?"

"It's because I'm in this chair," she whimpered bitterly, "and you felt sorry for me." The munchkin looked confused and Nessa wondered if she might be mistaken. "Well isn't that right?"

"No it's because…" Boq trailed off, letting his conflicted eyes wander to the corner where Galinda was blissfully pressed into Fiyero's arms. Maybe telling Nessa the truth was bad idea. She was so nice; breaking her fragile heart seemed unthinkable. Besides, how could Galinda ever choose him when she had a prince? "Because…because you are so beautiful," the munchkin amended.

"Oh Boq!" Nessa exclaimed, her face lighting up with giddy joy. "I think you're wonderful." She took his hand. "We deserve each other; don't you see this is our chance? We deserve each other, don't we Boq?"

"You know what?" the munchkin began, thinking of a fantastic way to make Nessa happy. "Let's dance."

"What?" the invalid demanded sharply, reclaiming her hand. Was he teasing her?

"Let's dance," Boq repeated, bravely pulling Nessa's chair into the center of the crowded ballroom. Other dancers parted, making room for the unbearably cute couple. Boq bowed to his date and proceeded to whirl her chair in a series of easy dance steps. Nessa leaned back and spread out her arms as she spun, letting the chandeliers bathe her upturned face and ecstatic smile in silvery light.

/

"He's the one," Nessa announced quietly as she lay slumped in her bed.

"You can't know that…"

"He _is_," the invalid pressed fervently. "Boq didn't care about the chair, he even took me dancing."

"I saw," Leyen reminded her. _I also saw him looking at Galinda with ga-ga eyes. _

/

Leyen was positively shocked when she saw Elphaba in Dr. Dillamond's class the next morning. Her gorgeous raven hair flowed over her shoulders like a silky onyx river. Sparse makeup lent fierce beauty to her hawkish face. "Don't say a word," the green girl warned.

"Where's Galinda?" Leyen questioned, noticing the petite blonde's absence.

"She probably fell back asleep after I woke her," Elphaba muttered. "We were up _really_ late last night." Her eyes dashed briefly to the side and Leyen followed her gaze to Shiz's resident Winkie prince. She'd never gotten a clear look at Fiyero until now and had to admit that his physical appearance was rather stunning. The Winkie had warm amber eyes and a head of tousled brown locks. Fiyero's skin was a few shades darker than everyone else's and the tip of some blue tattoo poked above the neck of his shirt.

"Nessa wouldn't get up this morning either," the blonde informed her green acquaintance. "She's not a morning person."

"Who is?" Elphaba chuckled before sighing in extreme exasperation. "I guess I should go drag Galinda out of bed; she's got a date with Fiyero after this class."

"I take it you two had some bonding time last night," Leyen observed with a pleased smile.

"Galinda's not quite as bad as I thought she was," the green girl admitted.

"Why don't you let me go and wake her up?" the blonde suggested. "You take better notes in this class, so I'll just copy yours when I get back."

"Fine," Elphaba muttered as her eyes bolted to Fiyero's face again.

/

As Leyen walked briskly through the lavish corridors of Crage Hall she nearly collided with a rushed someone in a neat, brown uniform. The sudden encounter resulted in a flurry of stark, white envelopes. "I'm so sorry!" the blonde exclaimed helping the man, who she'd now identified as Shiz's mail carrier, to collect his spilled belongings.

"It's quite alright Miss," he assured her, stuffing tidily folded letters into his satchel. However Leyen didn't hear; her green eyes were fixed on a crumpled, parchment envelope.

"Sir this is on its way to my dorm," she told the flustered mailman. "Could I perhaps take it now?" He waved his hand in weary assent before continuing down the hall. As soon as he was gone the blonde proceeded to rip her abused letter open with little regard for the paper's wellbeing. There was only one person this could be from; Chistery.

**That's right, I'm bringing in another of Wicked's minor characters…**

**I always wondered why Galinda and Nessa were both absent from Dillamond's class when he was taken away, but they were both there during the first scene with him…that's why I wrote that little bit about them being too tired…I'm going to be filling in lots of little holes with this story…**

**Hopefully you guys don't mind that I'm meshing book Fiyero and musical Fiyero…**

**Also, I'm considering a beta just so I can get some super detailed critique on my work (and so someone else can fix the grammatical errors that I'm too lazy to edit…heehee)**

**Thanks so much to those of you who left amazingly detailed critiques! I love all my reviewers…you guys rock!**


	6. Meet Chistery

_Dear Yenlay,_

_ I was so thrilled to hear that you're attending Shiz this year, but sad that I couldn't be there to see you off. Last week I came home to visit my family for a bit (did the tree-house get smaller or is that just me?) and stopped by Fede. Everyone misses you terribly, although Purus is particularly devastated. She complained that Fede isn't nearly as interesting without you causing trouble, and I have to agree. It was odd staying in the village for a whole day and not finding a single jawfish in my shoe. _

_ Actually it's probably a good thing that you aren't here right now. Everyone's a little jumpy because the ruby prospectors (your parents included) are complaining about the lack of decent roads between Qhoyre and the Emerald City. Apparently certain officials are considering a new branch of the Yellow Brick Road that would lead straight through Fede on its way to Qhoyre. There's enough political tension here to make your head spin, but so far the discussions are mostly based off rumors. _

_ Life at Zawah University is nice and the dorms are spacious, but I miss my boisterous family and their crowded tree-house. Right now I'm the head of my class, though Zawah is far from the best university in Oz, and that fact has gotten me some attention. Yesterday the Wizard (yes _the_ Wizard) sent me an invitation to speak with him. That's right; I'm going to the Emerald City! My bags are packed and I'm leaving tomorrow for a week long stay in the Emerald Palace (or perhaps longer, depending on what the Great Oz has in store for me). I can scarcely contain my excitement; they say that the Emerald City has one of the most extensive aviaries in Oz (and you know how I am about birds)._

_Hope to see you soon (even if it means a jawfish in my shoe),_

_Chistery_

Leyen couldn't help chuckling as she finished the letter. Two years at Zawah University in Qhoyre had done nothing to mature Chistery's boyish nature. Clutching the envelope like a lifeline Leyen continued towards her destination. "Galinda?" she called, pounding on the blonde's door. A muffled groan answered her. "Elphaba sent me to get you up," Leyen shouted. "She said you've got a date with Fiyero after Dillamond's class."

A very sleepy Galinda dragged the door open, looking like a bedraggled cat in a rainstorm. She rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"About nine thirty-ish." Her droopy eyes widened.

"Oh shiz!" she cursed, sprinting back into the dorm. "I don't have long to make myself presentable. Thanks for waking me up Leyen."

"It was Elphaba's idea," the southerner insisted, edging away so as not to be caught in a tornado of girl-talk.

"Oh Elphie's _so_ sweet," Galinda gushed.

"Elphie?" Leyen couldn't keep the violent shock out of her voice. She'd understood that Galinda and Elphaba were on better terms than before but _'Elphie'_? That word seemed too endearing for the green girl to accept from someone she'd loathed a few days earlier.

"It's my new nickname for Elphaba," the petite girl squealed from her dresser, where an extensive collection of cosmetics were laid out. Her happy tone dampened slightly. "I was so mean to her before, because I didn't realize what a sincerely _nice_ person she is under that green." There was a new level of depth in Galinda's tone; one Leyen had never heard before. Whatever events transpired last night, they had changed her in a very permanent way.

/

The morning after Dr. Dillamond's capture a drama bomb detonated. Rumors flew and the story of what happened grew as it was passed from student to student. Luckily there was a prominent headline in the following day's paper that set everything straight; Animals Banned from Teaching. It was a short piece explaining that many parents felt uneasy about trusting their children's education to teachers of a different species. One sided and lacking in information, the article left Elphaba livid.

"Some people are such ignorant fools!" she ranted to Nessarose, Leyen, and Galinda as they picnicked in the courtyard. "Dr. Dillamond was a genius! Who even passed the Animal Ban?"

"Maybe it was the Wizard," Nessarose piped up, hoping the green girl wouldn't go tornado on her.

"That's preposterous," Elphaba snorted, waving the opinion aside. "I'm sure he doesn't know what's going on."

"The Wizard has nothing against Animals," Leyen agreed, holding up her letter. "He invited my Monkey friend Chistery to the Emerald Palace."

"Why do you think he did that?" Galinda wondered, eager to divert the conversation down less intellectual paths.

"Maybe to offer Chistery a scholarship?" the southerner suggested naively. "Chistery's getting stellar marks but his family can't afford anywhere better than Zawah University." Elphaba wasn't listening; she was too worked up about Dr. Dillamond.

"It's too long!" she burst out suddenly, startling her companions. "The Wizard invited me to see him at the end of the month, but I can't wait that long. Something needs to be done _now_."

"I think you're blowing this way out of proportion," Leyen insisted, trying to calm her friend. "Dr. Dillamond is just one teacher. I know you were fond of him, but maybe Shiz let him go because of his methods not his species."

"You'll arrange the world however you please just to keep your silly fairy tales intact," Elphaba snapped. "Leyen the world isn't all happiness and butterflies. Bad things, horrible things, happen to good people. You can't go on assuming that everyone always has good intentions."

"The world isn't all conspiracy theories and tyranny either," the blonde retorted, feathers ruffled. "I think you're too suspicious for your own good."

"Calm down you two," Nessarose cried. "Whatever else it might be Dr. Dillamond's capture whipped things around here into a frenzy, but that's no reason to go off on one another. We're _friends_ for Oz's sakes." Her words rang with the clarity of common sense.

"I do believe you're going to be the best governor Munchkin Land's ever had," Leyen told her friend frankly. "You have the superb ability to deliver a steaming slice of reality wherever it's needed."

/

Chistery was so nervous his palms were sweating. A pair of ornate double doors stood before him, looming like sentinels of carved gold. The Monkey straightened his rumbled red jacket. Though second hand and baggy it was the best he could afford for this important meeting. "The Wizard will see you now," droned a tall, thick bodied man with a reddish beard. He stood stiffly in a green uniform, watching Chistery with guarded eyes.

"Thank you sir," the Monkey responded, as two guards pulled open the doors. Chistery sauntered inside, making an effort not to slouch into his usual rolling gait, and heard a heavy thud as the entryway was sealed. Foreboding prickled up the back of Chistery's neck. Something about this shadowy room was off; there was no feeling of welcome or hospitality. A metallic golden head watched the Monkey with lifeless eyes.

"I am Oz," the mechanical mask announced in an echoing, brassy voice. Chistery jumped in fright. "I am Oz; the great and terrible."

**So how does Chistery get to where we see him in the musical…I guess you'll just have to find out…**

**I know in the musical the time span from 'I'm Not That Girl' to 'One Short Day' probably was only a few days…but I thought it would be more realistic if the Wizard sent for Elphaba a month in advance…plus it worked better with the plot and allowed for more Shiz-era shenanigans (there will be a small spattering of Fiyerba for you fluffle-lovers!)**


	7. Taken Captive

"Who comes before me?" the Wizard demanded, his voice clanging like pots and pans.

"My name is Chistery sir," the nervous Monkey replied. "You sent for me."

"Ah yes." A shudder of silence passed through the room. "I brought you here to discuss your valedictorian status at Zawah University." A tentative smile stretched across the primate's proud face.

"I'm flattered that you are aware of my grades," Chistery responded, bowing a little. He was met with hollow laughter.

"More people know of your accomplishment than you might think," the great golden mask informed him. "You're an inspiration to the Animals of Oz. They see your success and think 'if a poor Monkey from Quadling Country can do it so can I'." Happiness fluttered briefly through Chistery's heart. Was he really such an influence? "There are less and less Animals in Oz's universities, so you stand out," the Wizard continued to drone. "Which is why I'm asking you to leave Zawah."

"What?" the Monkey stuttered, unsure if he'd heard correctly.

"I want you to leave Zawah University," the great Oz repeated in a thick, metallic monotone.

"But why?"

"Your presence there is encouraging subversive Animal activity," he explained.

"Sir my family and I saved for years so I could get a quality education," Chistery replied curtly, his tone cold but respectful. "I will not throw away so much hard work."

"I thought you might refuse." This voice did not emanate from the intimidating gold head, which had suddenly fallen into lifelessness, but from behind it. An old man in a prim, gray coat came lolloping out. His thinning hair was wispy and white, framing a pair of kind, twinkling eyes. If not for the extreme confusion Chistery would've taken a liking to him. "Don't look so perplexed," the man chuckled. "I'm the Wonderful Wizard of Oz."

"But the head…"

"It's a rather illustrious illusion I'll admit," the Wizard shrugged. "But people expect this sort of thing from such a powerful man."

"Sir I'm awfully…puzzled," Chistery admitted, scratching his head in a very Monkey-ish way. The sudden change of mood was disorienting.

"Don't be," the Wizard cried, words run through with jubilant laughter. "Now, since you didn't accept my last offer I'll make you a new one. If you leave Zawah University I'll let you work here in the palace as my personal servant. You'll have new clothes and enough money to keep that large family of yours in expensive knickknacks."

"I'm honored by such a request," Chistery replied, slowly backing away. "Truly I am, but I'd rather do what I love than make excessive amounts of money. My father always said that cash makes a person rash." He was rambling. "Besides, after I graduate my plan is to study the undocumented birds of the south, known only to quadlings." The Wizard's face darkened in disappointment.

"Chistery I'm sorry, but you don't have much of a choice," he told the frightened Monkey. "It's my job to rule this great nation, and I can't let the whim of one young Animal divert Oz from its set course." Chistery opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off. "I understand that you may still be unwilling, but my officers took the liberty of escorting your entire family here." With that the Wizard yanked a battered brown lever installed in the floor near his great golden head. The back wall, which Chistery could now see was nothing more than a mesh of gears, began to crawl apart. It revealed thick iron bars crisscrossing to create some sort of twisted prison, separating the throne room from a musty space behind it. Dark figures, stripped of clothing and dignity, clung to the bars of their prison. Shrieking filled the air as the hostages recognized their relative.

"Chistery!" they cried in a cacophony of desperate voices. "Run; get away from here."

"Mom? Dad?" The Monkey was in absolute shock as he slowly recognized each and every member of his close knit clan. Sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, and uncles shouted for him to escape and leave them. "Why did you do this?" Chistery demanded of the Wizard, whose kindly face was clearly nothing but a carefully constructed facade. The old man jerked once more on his lever, and the back wall slid into place.

"I did this so you would stay here as my servant," he told the devastated primate. The old man's bright eyes were creased with sorrow, as though this ultimatum pained him. "If you accept my offer I can guarantee your family's safety. They'll have food and clothing; maybe even a few baubles now and again. You'll live a life of luxury with fine new outfits and meals prepared by my personal chef."

"Why don't you just kill me?" the Monkey hissed, anger coiling around his heart.

"I'm stunned you would suggest such a thing," the Wizard scoffed, taken aback. "My men may have kidnapped your family, but I'm no murderer."

"His Ozness is making you a generous offer." Chistery whirled to see a fish-faced woman sauntering towards him. Her powdery hair was piled into a mound of rotten sugar, and her eyes glinted like so many knives. "It would be wise to accept."

"This is my associate, Madame Morrible," the great Oz introduced. "She's headmistress at Shiz."

"And soon to be his press secretary," the disgusting lady gushed. A sickly sweet smile dripped down her false face as she turned to Chistery. "The Wizard has done incredible work here in Oz. He kept the country from falling apart during the Great Drought by blaming the horrendible weather on the Animals of Munchkin Land. Now this superb device for bonding people has spread to the rest of Oz, and we intend to help it along. That's why it's imperative that you stay here with us."

"You have no real power at all do you?" the Monkey realized, turning to the Wizard.

"Power is relative dearie," Madame Morrible responded, having clearly decided that Oz's ruler couldn't speak for himself. "And by living here you'll have a good life working beside the most powerful man in the nation." Chistery was beginning to absorb the fact that returning to Zawah was impossible, and with his family imprisoned there was really only one choice.

"Fine," he sighed. "What are the conditions?" Those words of surrender burned on their way out.

"There aren't many," the Wizard assured him, still trying to stay on Chistery's good side. "We only request that you don't leave my chambers."

"And that you don't speak," Madame Morrible added, baring her teeth in a savage grin. "Ever."

/

Slowly but surely Chistery fell into a new routine. The first days were hard. Sometimes he would forget the rules and address the Wizard, or worse, Madame Morrible. This resulted in punishment; an hour spent caged for each word he spoke. Chistery wasn't the only Animal kept in the Wizard's chambers. Sometimes there was a Goat too, but his eyes were already sinking into unintelligence. Days turned to weeks and a routine was established. The work wasn't hard and sometimes Chistery was allowed to visit his family, though speaking was forbidden.

There were days when Chistery wondered whether it was Morrible who really ruled Oz. She seemed to have the soft hearted Wizard wrapped around her finger. He wasn't an assertive man to begin with, and she was chronically bossy. Luckily Madame Morrible had duties at Shiz, so she couldn't spend a lot of time at the Emerald Palace. Things were better without that creepy hag marauding the halls.

Once a day Chistery took time to watch the birds. They were ordinary species, but the Monkey found them captivating. Everything in the city was green, and after awhile it became nauseating. It wasn't the warm, muted green of swamp moss either, but rather a decidedly, unnatural shade of bright emerald. Only the birds remained clothed in their natural pigments. Only the birds were free of the Wizard's oppressive color.

**Sorry if this was a little slow…and sorry for making this chapter all about Chistery but he needed some development…we will return to Leyen in the next installment…there will be a lot more action…**

**I will give bucket loads of virtual cookies to whoever can guess what life changing event will greatly effect Leyen in the chapters to come…seriously it will be almost impossible (here's a clue; the idea for this event came from something that happened in the Wicked book)**


	8. Rumors

**Thanks for all the reviews…though I must say your guesses are **_**way**_** off (which doesn't surprise me…it's **_**really**_** hard to guess)…here's another clue; it's not a central part of the Wicked book but a obscure-ish detail that isn't discussed much…it will be awhile before this event happens though (so you've got a lot of time to guess)**

**And yes I know this story is mostly about Leyen but there are other 'forgotten' details about other characters that I decided to add...and since Elphaba and Galinda haven't had much face time I decided to give them some**

Not many people remembered what really happened when the Wizard first came to Oz. Only the date remained to be glorified into a national holiday. For Shiz's male students OzDay, as the celebration had come to be called, was an excuse for rowdy parties and drinking. For Galinda Upland it meant a day of primping followed by dinner with her handsome Winkie prince.

"Elphie!" the blonde cried, flouncing onto her roommate's drab bed with unabashed enthusiasm. "Wake up!"

"It's OzDay," the green girl protested, rolling over and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Exactly !" the blonde squealed, bouncing. "We're having a spa day."

"Your level of enthusiasm is both unnatural and indecent at such an early hour," Elphaba growled. She pressed a rumpled grey pillow over her head.

"Come on," the petite girl pestered. "You've been so stressed about meeting the Wizard lately. A day of relaxation is totally necessary." Actually Elphaba's tense behavior had nothing to do with the Wizard, though that's what she told everyone who asked. In truth the source of her rampant confusion started with a 'fi' and ended with a 'yero'.

"Fine," the green witch conceded, sitting up with a reluctant stretch. She'd been friends with her blonde roommate long enough to understand that Galinda couldn't accept negative statements.

/

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Elphaba demanded as Galinda smeared some pasty, jade colored cream over her cheeks.

"No," the blonde insisted, continuing to apply the mask. "It's a moisturizer." The green girl shrugged and dipped her emerald fingers into the cool mixture.

"It's cold," she complained, blotting the stuff on her forehead. She scowled at the mirror.

"Stop it!" Galinda shrieked. "The cream won't dry right." Elphaba grinned at her friend, whose olive mask was already finished.

"What's it like being green?"

"Haha, very funny." Several hollow knocks radiated through the door. "Who's there?"

"Nessa and Leyen." Galinda scrambled to let her friends in. As she opened the door a frightened exclamation tore the air.

"Sweet Oz what's on your face?" Nessarose cried, coasting inside. It couldn't have been clearer which side belonged to which girl. Galinda's was enveloped in all things pink. Feathers and fluff oozed from ever visible surface into a soft, frothy mass of girlish color. Elphaba's half of the dorm was quite the opposite. Though drab everything was organized and tidy. Her numerous books, borrowed from the library, were neatly arranged in stacks along the wall. Apart from those tomes there was no color to be seen; just stark blacks and whites. It was all void of emotion, except for an odd, conical hat hanging jauntily from one of the bedposts.

"This is a moisturizer," Galinda explained, gesturing to her temporary verdigris. "Elphie and I are having a spa day."

"Really?" Nessa's interest was immediately captured. "Can we join in?"

"Of course!" the blonde squealed, clapping her hands like an excited child. "The more the merrier."

"Oh great," Elphaba sighed. She graced them with a characteristic eye roll. "More witnesses."

"Elphie!" her petite roommate scolded, offering the tub of green goo to their guests.

"Why are you guys here anyway?" the witch wanted to know.

"Morrible's in an awful mood today," Nessarose grumped. "We didn't want to be anywhere near that fishy tornado."

"She's going through a change of life," Leyen informed them in that bluntly innocent way of hers. She received an elbow in the side from her roommate. "Well she is!"

"How do you even know that?" Elphaba inquired, leaning forward with sick interest.

"You can smell it," the southerner replied, wrinkling her nose. Galinda laughed nervously.

"Quadlings are excellent observers," the green girl commented. "I can't imagine how cool it must have been to grow up with them." Leyen shrugged modestly and proceeded to paint eccentric, tribal designs on her skin with the moisturizer. Elphaba's always curious eyes watched. "Could you do some of those on me?"

Galinda threw up her hands in exasperation. "Does anyone plan on using the cream for its intended purpose?" Leyen ignored the unhappy blonde as she smudged an intricate almond shape onto the green girl's forehead.

"What's this?" Elphaba queried, examining herself in the mirror.

"It's the always open eye of Heway," Leyen explained, "bestowed upon those who are continually searching for the truth."

"Great," Nessa snorted jokingly. "Now my sister's got an extra eye."

"An extra eye that's always awake," Elphaba reminded her with a nostalgic grin. "Which means I'll know if you try to paint my face pink while I'm asleep again." She aimed a teasing glare at her sister.

"It was Leyen's idea!" Nessarose protested.

"Who's Heway?" Galinda wondered rather suddenly. Leyen responded with 'the creator' just as Elphaba said 'the quadling deity'.

"We believe that every person is bestowed with one of Heway's infinite gifts," Leyen elaborated, nervous that she'd be shot down again but refusing to sell out. "Elphaba's gift is a hungry passion for what's right. Thus the eye."

"What's my gift?" Galinda exclaimed, wholeheartedly accepting this new information with her usual childlike enthusiasm.

"I don't know," the southerner admitted. "Do I look like a priestess?"

"You knew Elphie's."

"Fabala's is blatantly obvious," Leyen retorted. "And it was just a guess."

"What did you call me?" Elphaba inquired, arching a raven eyebrow.

"Oh Fabala?"

"Yeah."

"It's the quadling form of Elphaba." Leyen blushed, feeling that she'd exposed herself. "If you don't like it I won't call you…"

"No it's fine," the green girl assured her, waving off the small awkwardness. By now everyone's face was sufficiently caked with the moisturizer. "So what now?"

"Now we wait for the masks to dry," Galinda informed her green friend before heading to the bathroom. "I'll go get the nail polish." Elphaba muttered something that sounded like 'kill me now' and snatched a book from her bedside table.

"_The Vinkus and Oz_," Nessa read, squinting at the cover. "I didn't think you were intrigued by the political workings of this country. Aren't science and sorcery your areas of interest?"

"They were," the green girl replied curtly, already absorbed in her reading. "But I'll be going to see the Wizard soon and it's best to start preparing now."

"But didn't he want to meet you because of your talent in sorcery?" Leyen questioned.

"Yes," Elphaba huffed, curling herself up against the headboard. "But I'm sure he'll expect me to know a little about politics."

"That's a pretty thick book," Nessa observed. She was intentionally irking her sister now. "What's it about?" The green witch gave a deep, shuddering sigh.

"It's about the strained relationship between the Vinkus and the Emerald City," she explained, setting the musty, old volume down. "There are several different tribes in the Vinkus, though the largest and most powerful is the Arjiki…"

"Isn't that the tribe Fiyero's prince of?" Leyen interjected. Elphaba's cheeks darkened ever so slightly.

"Yes," she muttered, recovering with a look of scorn for the Winkie. "Bless their souls. Anyway Vinkun royalty doesn't allow the Wizard much control in their lands. They have their own militias too so they don't have to rely on the Ozian army. A few years ago some fugitive escaped into the Vinkus and Fiyero's parents refused to let the Wizard's men search for him." It was, in fact, a good thing Elphaba read that book. Though the information seemed insignificant at the time, it would eventually shape her entire future.

"Hear that Leyen?" Nessarose teased. "When your pranks get you in trouble with the Wizard high tail it to the Vinkus."

"Pranks?" The green girl's eyebrow jackknifed. "Leyen?" Galinda chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, arms laden with a thousand tiny vials of nail polish.

"Elphie!" the blonde exclaimed in absolute horror. "Your mask!" Unfortunately the green witch's scowling had resulted in a spider web of peeling cracks in the moisturizer coating her face.

"Whoops," she chuckled sheepishly. "I'm shedding my skin. Even my body repels fashion." The words spoken that day were forgotten until years later.

/

Elphaba returned from the library having finished most of her homework for the following week and feeling very accomplished. She was ready to get to bed early so she'd be fast asleep when the partiers came carousing back at some Oz forbidden hour. Unfortunately that was not to be the case for when the green girl swung open her door she found Galinda sprawled on the bed crying her heart out. "What's wrong?" Elphaba demanded, rushing to her roommate's side. "What happened?"

"Fiyero never showed up," the blonde blubbered into her sopping pillow.

**Sorry this chapter was a little slow but I wanted to explain the two oddest rumors in 'Thanks Goodness' (although you'll find out later how the rest of Oz heard those two rumors)…I also wanted to explain while Elphaba said 'look to the western sky' in 'Defying Gravity' (after all, at that point in the story she didn't know that Fiyero would offer to let her hide in Kiamo Ko)**


	9. OzDay Promises

Elphaba was on a mission. Galinda was back in the dorm crying her eyes out due to the callous attitude of a certain Winkie prince. This was why the green girl was off to find Fiyero and demand why he stood the blonde up. She warily knocked on his door in Ozma Towers, afraid that he would appear shirtless, but there was no response. Next Elphaba stalked across a lawn that college boys regularly used for impromptu games of handball. "Fabala!" Leyen fell into stride beside her friend. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm off to behead Shiz's resident prince," she replied, her venomous words shooting into the peaceful evening air.

"What did he do to deserve such treatment?"

"Did you just use _sarcasm_?" the green girl teased incredulously, her voice still pulled taut with agitation.

"I learned from the best," Leyen chirped. Her easy camaraderie was lost on the irked witch.

"Have you seen Fiyero?"

"No." She was frightened for the ignorant Winkie wherever he was. Someone jogged by in an unmistakable pinstripe suit.

"Boq!" Elphaba called, waving to the hurried munchkin.

"I can't talk now," he told her apologetically.

"It will only take a minute," the green girl insisted, beckoning him over. "This concerns Galinda." Boq was immediately at her side.

"What can I do for Miss Galinda?"

"You can tell me where Fiyero is," Elphaba replied. The munchkin's eager expression wilted pitifully.

"He was playing handball with some other guys earlier."

"Did he say anything about a date?"

"No." Boq looked confused. "Miss Elphaba what's going on?"

"Master Tiggular stood my roommate up." The munchkin's eyes flared with foolish hope. "No, Galinda doesn't plan to break up with her boyfriend," Elphaba answered, before Boq could even speak his question.

"Maybe you should check the bars in town," he sighed, defeat emanating from his tired posture. "It's OzDay, all the party boys are off getting drunk."

"Let's check the Boar and Fennel," Elphaba muttered to Leyen, her calm voice simmering with cold fire.

/

A party was roaring full swing in the scruffy bar. Strong liquor and cheap beer flowed freely through the veins of most patrons. Bartenders seemed more preoccupied with the drunk women than the coins tossed on the counter. Leyen looked terrified and Elphaba wore a mask of profound revulsion. The very air rank of putrid body fluids.

"I may puke," she groaned, wrinkling her nose.

"This is what Gillikinese men do for fun?" Leyen questioned.

"Munchkinlanders too," the green girl spat. "It's a great comment on our society isn't it?" She shuddered.

"Elphaba?" A vaguely slurred voice reached her over the din of rowdy voices.

"Fiyero!" Her eyes darkened. "Why are you here?"

"It's OzDay," he shrugged lamely, casting a significant look at Leyen. Taking the hint she wandered out of earshot, trying not to brush against the filthy bodies around her.

"You were supposed to pick Galinda up an hour ago Master Tiggular," Elphaba snarled.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, taking the green girl's hand. "I just needed some time to think about what happened…with the Lion Cub and all." Elphaba jerked her arm away with more effort than should have been necessary.

"So clearly a bar and alcohol aided your ponderings," she snapped. "I can smell the liquor on your breath."

"It was just a little beer," he muttered guiltily.

"Well I'm touched to hear that you care so much about the plight of Animals," Elphaba hissed. "But your girlfriend is at home crying her eyes out and as her friend it's my responsibility to yell at you."

"Come on Fae," Fiyero murmured, steering her towards the bar.

"Don't call me that," she growled, wary that someone might have heard the nickname. With a groan the green girl slumped onto a stool. "A water please," she told the heavyset bartender. He sauntered away with a grunt. "Fiyero I think you should go to Crage Hall and apologize to Galinda," Elphaba told the Winkie earnestly. "You two were made for each other." The bartender slammed a glass of transparent liquid down on the stained counter.

"Elphaba you know I'm terribly fond of Galinda but…" Fiyero trailed off uncertainly and the green girl took a long swig of her drink.

"Ugh!" she coughed violently. "This isn't water!"

"I know," the bartended grumbled. "It's vodka."

"What kind of person gives someone vodka when they ask for water?"

"What kind of person orders water in a bar on OzDay?" Elphaba's only reply was a fierce glare.

"How much did you drink?" Fiyero wondered, glancing with surprise at the half empty glass.

"Too much," the green witch groaned. "It was strong stuff too."

"Listen Fae, I was here trying to work up the courage to talk to you." Elphaba's heart leapt into her throat, but she quickly reminded herself that the Winkie's already silly head was thick with spirits.

"Stop," she insisted. "You're prince of the Vinkus and you've got a world of potential spread out before you. However it'll all be gone if you let foolish partying…or silly whims…get in your way. Go back to Galinda, tell her you're sorry, and leave me alone." Her tone, which had been growing in fervor, rose to a shout on the last three words. As the green girl's head caught up with her actions she stormed out in a whirlwind of black fabric.

The cool air filled Elphaba's groggy mind as she sagged against the tavern wall. Already the strong liquor was clogging her bumbled thoughts. "Elphaba," Fiyero gasped, joining her there.

"Please leave me alone."

"No, I need to speak with you." He drew closer now and clasped her hands in his. She looked away. "What happened with the Lion Cub…"

"Was nothing," the green girl whispered forcefully, her burning eyes flashing up to meet his. She was suddenly aware that Fiyero's face was only inches from hers. "Promise you won't hurt Galinda."

"I promise." He was moving in.

"You're tipsy," Elphaba reminded him.

"So are you," the Winkie replied, gently pressing his lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a moment and then Fiyero was gone, back into the bar. Leyen found Elphaba outside with her eyes closed and a look of fragile disbelief on her face.

"Fabala?" The green girl took a shuddering breath and a goofy smile spread across her lips. "Come on," Leyen grumbled, grabbing a green hand and pulling Elphaba away. "I'm taking you back to Crage Hall; you're drunk."

"The bartender gave me vodka instead of water," the witch mumbled, allowing herself to be dragged along.

/

Galinda, whose crying had finally stopped, was startled by a knock at the door. Elphaba tottered in and sagged against the wall with a deep sigh. Then, to the blonde's profound disbelief, she giggled. Not a creepy cackle, not a sarcastic snort, but a giddy, girlish giggle. Elphaba floated to her bed and flopped down. Within seconds the green girl was asleep. She didn't remember much of that night, and what her memory did retain was nothing more than a blurred dream. Fiyero's recollections were likewise wispy, but his sluggish brain did hold onto the promise he'd made to Elphaba. The promise not to hurt Galinda.

**I'm a sucker for Fiyerba…hopefully it didn't turn any of you off (but this could've been something that happened at Shiz and was 'forgotten')**

**I also wanted to sorta/kinda explain why Fiyero might have been hesitant to break up with Galinda after Elphaba left (and why the whole engagement thing got so out of hand)…**


	10. Fede

**Sorry it's been awhile. I've been really busy. **

**Whoops; I accidentally posted the chapter from last time…stupid technology **

A blaze of warm, simmering weather had settled over Shiz, bathing everything in a haze of stifling heat. Sitting inside became unbearable, and even the stuffiest teachers conducted their classes outdoors. At lunchtime every patch of grass on campus was layered with a patchwork of picnic blankets. Those who couldn't find a spot made the short trek to Suicide Canal and relaxed beneath its shady trees. Spring Break was approaching rapidly, and with it Elphaba's trip to meet the Wizard.

"We're going to miss you terribly," Galinda told her friend as they lounged on a stone picnic bench. "Fiyero and I are both stuck at Shiz for the break." Her lower lip swelled outwards in a trademark pout.

"Why's that?" Nessa queried.

"Fifi's grades are…less than stellar," the blonde explained. "So his parents are insisting that he stay on campus to study during the break."

"What about you?" Leyen pressed.

"I just want to spend some quality time with my boyfriend," she replied evasively. Three pairs of perceptive eyes narrowed.

"Leyen have you seen the newest headline?" Elphaba asked abruptly, changing the subject on her roommate's behalf. She pulled a torn newspaper article from her pocket. _The Wizard Plans An Extension of the Yellow Brick Road to Qhoyre. _

"Yes," Leyen sighed. "It says that they're planning to negotiate with the people in nearby villages."

"You can't believe everything you read in newspapers," Nessarose pointed out, her nose jerking towards the clouds in a vaguely snotty fashion. "Father told me that the men they hired to finish the Yellow Brick Road in Munchkin Land were shady creeps that enjoyed making short jokes."

"Well I'm going home for a few days over break," the southerner shrugged, totally unconcerned. She couldn't see past the cloud of anticipation filling her gaze.

/

"Biq will keep her company, won't you Biq?"

"It's Boq," he muttered, finally fed up. "I can't do this anymore." The munchkin turned on heel and walked quickly away, feet making hollow thumps on the wooden train platform.

"Boq?" Nessa called, wheeling after him in utter bewilderment. A hiss of engine steam came between them, allowing the munchkin to escape.

"Nessa, maybe he just isn't the right one for you," Galinda suggested gently.

"No, he's the one," Nessarose assured her in a tight, desperate voice. "It's me that's not right." A certain green girl's eyes filled with concern. "Don't worry about me Elphaba, I'll be fine," the invalid snapped, spinning to pursue Boq. "Safe journey."

"Nessa wait!" the witch called.

"Elphie, let her go," Galinda insisted. In terms of boys she was the wiser of the two.

"I'll go after Nessa," Leyen offered. The southerner enclosed her green friend in a goodbye hug. Elphaba was tense for a moment, she wasn't one for physical contact, but she managed a gentle squeeze. "Bye Fabala."

/

"Boq said he needed some space to think things over," Nessarose said in a stiff, prim voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Leyen told her friend sincerely, kneeling beside her chair. "But maybe it'll come to be a good thing. Suffocating relationships don't make anyone happy." The invalid bit her lip. "I'll be leaving soon; so you'd better tell me why you've been sulking."

"I don't sulk."

"Not in the traditional sense," Leyen allowed. "But lately you've been a ramrod of formality, indicating that something's irritating you."

"Well Father's invited me home for Spring Break."

"I thought you were quite fond of your father."

"I am," Nessarose assured her, still refusing to make eye contact. "But whenever I'm home he parades me around to dinners and balls with Munchkin Land's political elite. The political and diplomatic conversations are fantastically interesting, but I can't participate because no one considers a little crippled girl's opinion to hold any weight. Everyone's nice, but it's only out of pity. They really don't think I'll ever be able to do anything as Governor." Livid annoyance was slowly leaking through her mask of composure.

"You don't have to go." Leyen's simple words cut to the heart of the matter.

"Yes I do," Nessarose insisted. "Father will be upset if I don't show up at the train station."

"Let him be upset. Come with me." The southerner's suggestion was mostly a joke. Nessarose didn't exactly thrive around nature, particularly wet, muddy swamp nature. It wasn't as if the invalid ever did anything spontaneous either, she preferred a strict schedule.

"Ok."

"What?" Leyen's mouth was hanging open.

"Ok, I'll come with you," Nessa reiterated. "I'll send a message to Father that I've changed my mind." Her eyes were swimming with equal parts trepidation and determination.

/

After greeting Mr. and Mrs. Rhoda, Leyen's scarily hospitable parents, the two girls escaped to Fede. Nessa's chair was not designed for sodden, woodland paths, but Leyen patiently guided it around every mangrove root seeking to entangle the wheels. "So what are Quadling villages like anyway?"

"They're built on the river, supported by reed mats," the southerner explained. "Fede is like a huge island that floats wherever the current takes it."

"Floats?" Nessa gulped. Her cumbersome chair, coupled with the fact that she couldn't swim, made the invalid somewhat uncomfortable around deep water.

"You'll be fine," Leyen assured her with a gentle shoulder squeeze. "A Quadling village couldn't sink if it tried."

"Yenlay!" The joyous cry went up before Fede was even in sight. A blur of woven fabric, pinkish skin and black hair toppled Leyen to the ground while Nessa tensed, sure that they were being attacked by hostile natives.

"Purus!" the blonde exclaimed, embracing a quadling teenager with cropped raven hair. Her tongue relished the sensation of Qua'ati words flowing over it again "Was it really necessary to tackle me?"

"I'm sorry," the girl responded sheepishly, rolling off her friend. "I really missed you." Leyen yanked them both to their feet.

"Nessa, this is Purus," she explained in common Ozian. "She's a very close friend of mine." Actually the quadling was more of a slightly younger sister to Leyen than a friend. "Purus, this is Nessarose."

"I am to be pleased at meeting you," Purus greeted, her accent heavy. Most Quadlings, even those that spoke common Ozian regularly, found it excruciatingly hard to break out of the Qua'ati speech pattern.

"It's nice to meet you too," the invalid replied tersely. Having unwittingly stumbled into a situation _far _outside her comfort zone Nessarose retreated into a haughty shell. The trek to Fede continued for a few more minutes before a mottled expanse of meandering river abruptly oozed into view. Many twiggy, straw colored houses were pressed together on the close bank, linked by thick reed thatching. The red skinned people bobbing in the muddy current or clustered outside thatched houses looked up. Then, as if some invisible order had been given, everyone left what they were doing and swarmed the newcomers in a hearty display of communal affection.

It wasn't long before Purus managed to wrestle Leyen into the water. She emerged glaring and launched into a full out assault on her mischievous friend. Chuckling at antics they'd missed for months the villagers returned to their lives, leaving Nessa alone. Well, not totally alone. "Are you to be Nessarose?" It was Fieb.

"Yes," the invalid sighed, unsure what she was doing here.

"Yenlay is to be speaking well of you in her letters."

"Yenlay?" Fieb gestured to the euphoric blonde, who was now attempting to shove Purus's head beneath the murky water.

"Oh Leyen," Nessa realized. "She's been a good friend to me."

"You to have been a good friend also," the middle aged quadling observed. "Only a good friend to be coming here willingly." Her full lips pulled into a companionable smile and the invalid responded with a tentative grin of her own. Fieb's very nature drew trust like a fishing lure.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," Nessa groaned, slouching a little.

"You to be knowing soon."

**Sorry if that was a bit slow and filler-ish…and I know the story hasn't been focusing on Leyen much but the development I've been putting on other characters it to make up for the heavy amount of pure, undiluted Leyen-only plot that will unfold after the 'life changing event' I've hinted about (you guys should be able to make more accurate guesses now; I dropped LOTS of hints this chapter)**

**Previously there was a lot more interesting stuff in this chapter but it got WAY too long so I split it into two parts and, unfortunately this half is pretty uninteresting…just hang on; the next bit will be out really soon!**


	11. Adventures in the Swamp

**This chapter is filler-ish and I wasn't very satisfied with it, so I added a little near the beginning of the bonfire scene…hopefully it was a good addition…**

Leyen was ecstatically happy to be home and spent every possible moment in Fede, though her parents insisted that she at least sleep in the house. The blonde had learned a lot since coming home. First, Chistery and his family were missing. Their once vivacious tree house was now empty and dormant; they'd departed without even a note. Second, the Wizard was apparently making good on his promise. Fieb and a few of Fede's other leaders would soon journey to the nearby worker camp in order to negotiate their possible relocation. Though these changes were far from pleasant, Leyen refused to let anything spoil her acute happiness.

Nessa's opinion of the village was slowly improving, inch by painstaking inch. It was hard not to be enchanted by the overwhelming kindness of the bog people. They seemed to understand that she was uncomfortable, and did everything possible to make the invalid feel at home. Of course Leyen was the perfect hostess, explaining anything foreign to her often baffled friend.

"What are these?" Nessarose queried, gesturing to the wrinkled, russet spheres in her lunch basket.

"Roasted swamp apples," Leyen replied, popping one in her mouth. "They're great."

"Fieb is to be making the _best_ swamp apple tarts," Purus enthused. The three girls were picnicking in a mangrove forest not far from Fede. For once Nessarose was glad to be in a wheelchair, as it rescued her from sitting on the muddy ground.

"So," the blonde began, reclining against a soft bed of moist moss. "What should we do today?" Nessa had quickly learned that, when in the company of Leyen and Purus, each expanse of unexplored marshland was an adventure waiting to happen.

"What is there to do?" she wondered, warily biting into a swamp apple. Its coarse consistency reminded her of a potato, but the sweet, earthy flavor wasn't totally unappealing.

"I was thinking we could walk to Sesor Meadow," Leyen suggested, eyebrows wriggling at Purus. The quadling gasped in delight and Nessa got the distinct feeling that she was missing something.

"What's Sesor Meadow?"

"It is to be a clearing full of the prettiest flowers to be in Quadling Country," Purus gushed. As always her twinkling, hazel eyes fairly blazed with enthusiasm for life in all its sadness and joy. The quadling was just so undiluted that her bright chattering occasionally came off as irksome. "I cannot to be explaining it, you must to be waiting and seeing."

/

"Close your eyes." The invalid warily obeyed Leyen. They'd been walking for at least an hour and their destination was close at hand. Nessarose could feel her chair slanting slightly, probably moving to an area far enough uphill to avoid constant saturation. "Did you know 'nessa' means butterfly in Qua'ati?" the blonde asked.

"No," Nessarose responded, unsure where her friend was going with this.

"When explorers from Gillikin first came to Quadling Country they loved the word," Leyen continued, shifting into a tone used for storytelling. "So it was one of the few they actually learned." The wheelchair came to a stop. "Open your eyes."

Nessa couldn't make sense of the bright object before her. At first her traitorous vision assumed it to be a sunset colored butterfly, perched atop one of the thick grass stems in the area. But those weren't wings, they were flower petals. Her eyes narrowed in quiet disbelief.

Four silky petals curled outwards from an elongated, onyx center. They were swathed in radiant, peachy orange, vividly throwing defiance at the subdued hues of Quadling Country. Velvety strands of black bordered the blossom, reminiscent of the dark veins on a butterfly. "The Gillikinese explorers are to be calling this a 'nessa rose'," Purus explained with a dazzling grin.

Nessa's lips pulled up in a faint smile as her eyes relinquished their hold on the magnificent flower. She could now see that the entire meadow was blooming with butterfly roses. "Thank you for showing me this." The prim facade had vanished and Nessa's voice was almost fervent with gratitude.

"You're quite welcome," Leyen replied graciously, understanding all her friend's unspoken implications. "Quadling Country isn't a conventionally pretty place, but these flowers are the exception."

/

Dusky shreds of shadow were closing in by the time all three girls returned to Fede. Nessarose, being the terminally prompt person that she was, immediately began to worry. "Your parents will be concerned," she told Leyen. "We're going to be terribly late." The blonde was much too happy to care. Her smile was in danger of blinding certain people.

"They'll guess that we're staying the night," she shrugged. "And that assumption would be correct; there's no way I'm pushing your chair through the forest after sunset."

"But…" Nessa's dislike of sleeping on a reed mat was overruled by her fear of what could be lurking in those soppy woods at night. "Fine."

"It won't be that bad," Leyen assured her. "Let's go help with the bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

/

Already quadlings were heaping wood near the center of the village. It was contained by a low stone wall, the inside of which was blackened with damp soot. Nearby jugs of highly flammable oil stood ready to aid in lighting the wet branches. Homemade benches and chairs circled the fire pit in a homey, unorganized fashion.

A spark was lit as soon as the sun doused itself. Leyen thrilled a little at the resulting wave of heat, and Purus flinched. They were seated near the back of the gathering, chewing some sort of meaty food. Nessarose observed the snacks warily. "Are those any good?"

"They're great," Leyen replied enthusiastically. "Try some." The invalid accepted, taking a slow bite and chewing thoughtfully.

"These _are_ good," she agreed, tearing off another piece. "What are they?"

"Cooked slugs." Nessa's face took on a sickly, green pallor. Her cheeks bulged with un-swallowed food.

"Leyen that is not to be very nice," Purus scolded with a giggle. "Those are really to be fried frog legs." The invalid aimed a fiery glare at her prank-inclined, blonde friend, who was struggling to contain a river of snickers.

It didn't take long for Fede's elders to begin telling tales of ancient magic. Leyen readily translated, whispering the words into Nessa's ear. The stories told of powerful witches and green swamp fires that never stopped burning. When the legends had run their course songs began; rich and folksy. Someone started pounding a skin drum, adding rhythm to the already catchy music. Feet tapped all over the circle, and even composed Nessa couldn't help bobbing her head a little. Occasionally solos broke out from the more talented members of the village. Purus starred in once such single, wowing them all with a melody capable of climbing into the starlit sky above.

"You should sing," Nessa prompted Leyen.

"No, I shouldn't," the blonde insisted, shuffling her feet. "I'd embarrass myself."

"Come on Yenlay," Purus pressed in cajoling Qua'ati. "I haven't heard your voice in ages." Leyen seemed to be considering; she was too easygoing to ever fight for anything. "Please, please, please, please, please?" The quadling fixed her unofficial sister with a very convincing pout.

"Fine." When another opportunity for a solo came around Leyen stood and captured the song. Her voice was rich and melodic, full of emotion and maturity she hadn't yet grown into. The blonde's chest swelled when her contribution was met with hoots of praise and a hug from Purus.

/

Nessa loved the bonfire. It was everything formal balls tried and failed to be. A million conversations were swept up into one, overlaid with stories and music. She'd never felt more at home with strangers. In fact the invalid didn't consider herself an outsider until the melodies turned into religious songs. These weren't droning hymns, but Nessa recognized cries of praise when she heard them. Ever so subtly Nessarose began to edge away; uncomfortable in worship to a god she knew nothing about.

Leyen took once glance at her retreating friend and understood. Much to the invalid's surprise she smiled. "Nessa, we worship the same God," the blonde said warmly. "He just has a different name here." Her jaw dropped, though the shock wasn't negative it was just…shocking. Leyen had sounded so sure when she said it, as though she'd spoken to the Unnamed God, or Heway, or whatever, about it in casual conversation.

From then on Nessarose didn't add her voice to the songs of praise, but she didn't tune them out either.

/

Leyen's simple heart was fit to burst with joy. She was home with her family, and now her best friend too. In the blonde's naive eyes things couldn't get any better. Purus had dozed off with her head on Leyen's lap and Nessa was likewise unconscious. Fieb grinned at the blonde, face bathed in the spooky glow of dying embers. "Do you need some help?" Leyen nodded. She hefted Purus into her arms while Fieb followed with Nessarose in the wheelchair.

Years ago, when it became clear that the blonde would be spending a lot of time in Fede, a hut was built for her near the edge of the village. It was small, with only enough space for some shelves and a mat or two, but she didn't mind. At times like this it was quite convenient.

Leyen gently laid Purus on her own bed and carefully shifted Nessa onto a spare mat in the corner. She sent Fieb a look of silent gratitude as the older quadling departed. With a fond smile Leyen slipped into bed beside Purus, totally content. It was the last time she saw Fede under happy circumstances.

/

"Will Nessa to be coming next time?" All three girls were sitting outside the Rhoda estate, waiting for a carriage.

"I don't know," Leyen admitted, casting her roommate a questioning look.

"I'll come if I can," the invalid promised Purus with a smile. Silence lapped away at their already slow conversation.

"Could I to be coming to Shiz sometime?" the quadling wondered, hardly daring to hope.

"I'd love that," Leyen replied delightedly. "You could visit at Lurlinemas."

"And I could to be seeing the snow?" Out of everything Nessa and Leyen had described to her nothing enchanted Purus more than the idea of snow.

"Of course," the blonde responded. "You can even play in it."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

**More hints were dropped; what event in Ozian history will greatly change Leyen's life? (I'll admit it won't happen exactly how it was described in the book but it will happen)…come on; at least one person has to guess…**

**Sorry that this chapter was slow but it was necessary and I wanted to delve a little deeper into Quadling history…if you're wondering why Quadlings don't have names like Turtleheart my explanation is that names like Purus and Fieb translate into two word names in common Ozian…so most quadlings outside of the south use their 'Gillikinese' names…**

**In case anyone cares Purus translates into Wildsky and Fieb translates into Eaglefire (I was going to weave that little bit of info into this chapter but it didn't work)…**

**only one or two chapters until the big event and then I promise this story is gonna take off like a rocket (and Leyen's character development will too)**


	12. Return

Leyen and Nessa spent the journey home discussing Fede, Purus, and a boatload of funny experiences. They didn't descend from their pedestal of elation until Shiz's gates opened up. Then all hell broke loose.

Rumors flew like splashes of shockingly cold water. People that hadn't ever spoken to Elphaba suddenly knew all about her trip to meet the Wizard. Everyone had a different version of the story. She'd tried to assassinate their leader and was now in line to be hanged. A stray spell drove her insane. Dr. Dillamond recruited the green girl for an underground militia of Animals bent on overthrowing the government. Only one detail agreed; Elphaba was evil. Dangerous. Violent. Wicked.

Heartless black headlines screamed up at Leyen from every newsstand; _Elphaba Thropp: The Wicked Witch of the West_. She gaped in horror while Nessa's face remained carefully blank. Students swarmed around the invalid, demanding her take on things. There were reporters too, armed with blinding cameras and notepads. Seeing as her friend was too shocked to do anything Leyen wrangled these nuisances away as best she could. It wasn't easy, but they managed to reach Crage Hall.

"What has she done now?" Nessarose wondered in quiet horror.

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," Leyen reassured her stricken friend. "Rumors always make things out to be worse than they are." A knock startled them from their conversation. The southerner yanked the door open with a displeased expression. "Please go awa…Oh." A petite blonde stood outside their room, eyes so swollen that she was hardly recognizable. "Galinda what…?"

"It's Glinda now," she sniffled, moving into the suite. Leyen knew better than to ask. Instead she simply turned to face the stricken blonde.

"Ga…Glinda what's going on?"

"Elphie turned the Wizard down."

"She did _what_?" Nessa demanded, mouth popping open.

"That's not the entire story," Glinda insisted. Her already fragile composure was cracking again. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but it just seems wrong to keep you two in the dark." Then the entire tale came pouring out in messy sobs of breath. Leyen's eyes grew progressively larger while Nessarose's cheeks flushed a livid scarlet. When Glinda finished her narrative oppressive silence hung heavy in the room. There was really nothing to say.

"Does Fiyero know?" Leyen queried eventually.

"Yes," the small blonde sighed, totally spent. "But he's sworn to secrecy; and so are you. If the Wizard found out I'd spilled his secret…" She shook her head as if that meant everything.

/

Things at Shiz were very different from then on. It was common knowledge that Miss Upland would be accepting a position with the Wizard once she graduated. Airheaded Galinda was gone, replaced by a quieter, more thoughtful girl named Glinda. Boq, who was frustratingly out of the loop, hardly understood this and liked it even less. _Glinda_ spent time studying and no longer needed his tutoring expertise. _Glinda_ didn't wear those dazzling outfits that always caught his eye. _Glinda_ stopped flouncing about in public, preferring to sulk in her empty room where Boq's gaze couldn't follow. But Glinda was also courteous enough to remember his name, so perhaps it wasn't a complete loss.

Nessarose, on the other hand, clung to the munchkin now more than ever. He'd never wanted to tell her the truth so much, but she'd never needed him so much either, and that made it impossible. In fact the invalid now gripped all her friends with a renewed frenzy, as if afraid that they might leave too. The mention of Elphaba's name sent Nessa into a funk that could last for days. Vanished was the lively girl with bright, innocent eyes. Now her gaze held all the solemnity in the world.

Fiyero was also increasingly thoughtful. Sometimes he spent lunches alone, gazing into the sky for no apparent reason. The Winkie's relationship with his blonde girlfriend had digressed into a tense connection based more on convention than anything else. However Glinda was determined to remain infatuated with Fiyero, and he was bound by a promise no one else knew of.

Leyen was the least changed. She missed Elphaba, and wasn't afraid to say so, but bad things just seemed to bounce of the blonde's happy exterior. Everyone's new demeanor frustrated her, and she was forever trying to coax them into a carefree picnic at Suicide Canal. Unfortunately news of dastardly deeds committed by the 'Wicked Witch' kept them all in a somber mood.

It was with a large amount of guiltily relief that Leyen escaped home over a long weekend. The trip was a request of her parents; apparently something very important and very secret was happening in the south. Every crisp word of their letter made it clear that this invitation was for Leyen alone, so Nessarose wouldn't be coming along.

As soon as the blonde arrived she was greeted with absurdly synthetic smiles. "Come inside," her mother, Mrs. Rhoda, cajoled. "Food's on the table." It was way too early for dinner. Something was up. Supper conversation consisted of muttered words and the sound of silverware on plates. Tension simmered through the balmy air. Leyen shivered.

"Was there a reason you called me here?" she wondered, trying to repress the ugly suspicions curling around her heart.

"There's something we hoped you could help us with," Mr. Rhoda began in a resolute tone. "You turned eighteen last month, which therefore makes you an adult member of the Qhoyre community." The blonde arched an eyebrow in confusion, something she'd learned from her green friend.

"A petition is being passed between the ruby prospectors," Mrs. Rhoda explained nervously. "They, we, want the Yellow Brick Road to extend deeper into Quadling Country."

"Why?" That single word had them wringing their hands worriedly.

"To build the road it would be necessary to drain many rivers and relocate certain villages," Leyen's mother responded, glancing at her husband for support. He offered a nod. "And that would make it possible to get at some very rich ruby deposits that were formerly unreachable."

"But we need one more name on the petition," Mr. Rhoda clarified. "Which you can now provide." Leyen opened her mouth to protest, but she was promptly interrupted. "This means a lot to many people, and you'd be offered generous compensation."

"You would have me sell out my _family_ for money?" Leyen's voice was soft with horrified disbelief.

"_We're_ your family," Mrs. Rhoda pressed forcefully. "And you need to understand that, as our daughter, it's a compulsory responsibility."

"I was never really your daughter," the blonde murmured, almost offhandedly. "You know that."

"There will be consequences if you decline," Mr. Rhoda pointed out. "For one, your tuition to Shiz would be revoked. You could learn just as well at a less pricey university." His words shot flecks of ice into Leyen's heart. She suddenly knew exactly how Elphaba must have felt when the Wizard made his offer.

"If you truly expected a 'yes' then you've severely misjudged my character," the blonde snarled. In eighteen years her voice had never sounded so sharp. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to visit people that care about more than my signature on a petition." And with that she was gone, leaving behind a chorus of slammed doors.

/

Leyen could feel in every fiber of her being that something was very, very wrong. A dry, lifeless wind rattled through what had once been Fede. Now the village was empty, but it was more than that. "Hello?" Not even the perpetually croaking frogs answered her. "What happened here?" Leyen stepped warily in amongst the huts, searching for clues. Nothing was amiss except…Was that blood?

A smear of grotesque, reddish color decorated the reeds beneath Leyen's feet. Her dismayed eyes discovered another splatter of rusty liquid on a nearby hut. Harsh gasps of air rushed in and out of the blonde's chest. Panic closed around her mind. "Yenlay?" Leyen turned to find Purus standing behind her. She was shaking and dirty, but altogether unharmed. Leyen's heart sang with relief as she hugged the terrified quadling.

"It's ok," the blonde whispered automatically when sobs began. "It's ok."

"No it's not," Purus blubbered, trembling with shock. "They killed everyone."

"What?"

"The workers," she elaborated. "They told Fieb that Fede needed to relocate. She demanded compensation, but the workers told her that they wouldn't pay mudcrawlers. They said that we could move or die." Here Purus's words were choked off by more racking cries of grief. "We considered it an idle threat, but the elders insisted on posting guards anyway. Then, last night, men came with clubs and knives. They'd been drinking and…and…" It was easy to fill in the blanks. Quadlings didn't make weapons; Fede would've been defenseless against armed Gillikinese men.

Leyen's heart stopped before picking up in double time. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. She and Purus collapsed in on one another, weeping relentlessly. Shock numbed the pain, but it wouldn't last forever. Unfortunately something else soon arrived to distract the girls from their agony.

It was a coarse mutter, the kind that went with aggressively, unintelligent eyes and a burly frame. "I don't see why they sent me back to clean things up. None of those roaches survived, and we dumped the bodies in the river. No one's gonna care enough to find out what happened."

"They're back," Purus squeaked. "Hide!" Leyen rolled through the doorway of a nearby hut, pulling the quadling in behind her. Heavy footsteps echoed outside. Neither girl dared to so much as breathe and the blonde's arms curled protectively around her unofficial sister. As the threat moved away she sighed with relief. It was the biggest mistake of her life.

Leathery, tar colored boots stopped outside their hiding place. A broad shouldered shadow blocked out the sun and suddenly Purus was being torn from Leyen's grasp. She tried to hold on, but a fist found her face. The blonde crumpled backwards while terrified screams echoed through her head. Leyen scrambled outside in time to see a machete slash across Purus's side.

"No!" Leyen's scream only alerted the man, a brutish fellow who clearly craved violence like a mosquito craved blood, to her presence. He turned, but the thatching beneath his feet suddenly gave way. A hole opened up and the murderer was swallowed by a sudden gurgle of muddy water. Leyen's frantic mind didn't have time to register such a strange occurrence; she was already kneeling beside Purus.

"Yenlay?" The quadling's eyes flickered open weakly. Leyen gathered Purus into her arms as if cradling a child.

"I'm here." This wasn't a time for tears; she needed to be strong for her little sister.

"It hurts."

"I know," Leyen whispered. "It won't hurt for long. You'll be with Heway soon."

"I'm gonna miss you Yenlay," Purus whimpered, cuddling into her chest. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Will you sing to me?"

"Of course." The blonde began a lullaby, something that spoke of dawn's infinite hope. Leyen's broken voice pulsed with bittersweet love. As the final notes faded away she gripped Purus's hand like a lifeline.

"Thank you." The quadling smiled and squeezed her sister's hand. Then Purus's eyes closed forever.

**The song I imagined Leyen singing is 'Tomorrow (reprise)' from the Annie movie (but I figures using outside media might tick some readers off so I didn't put the actual lyrics in)…if you want to get the full experience of this chapter please follow the directions below **

**IMPORTANT: please go on YouTube and type 'tomorrow annie reprise lyrics' into the search box. Click on the first video and imagine Leyen singing that song to Purus (it takes a few minutes to get to the actual 'Tomorrow' song)…I've made myself cry several times**


	13. I Want to Fight

**I felt that the little blurb about Leyen riding off into the sunset with her father's war stallion was somewhat abrupt and jerky so I've added more to it…sorry for the post-update revision but it was driving me nuts!**

As soon as Purus was gone, as soon as there was no one to be strong for, the tears came. Leyen believed that her friend was in a better place as firmly as she believed in the moon, but that didn't make the pain of separation any easier to bear. She didn't try to grieve quietly; after all, the blonde had just lost her entire family. Drops of bitter saltwater rained down on Purus's lifeless face.

///

Elphaba knew that she was being reckless. It wasn't logical for a fugitive to risk side errands, yet here she was hovering over Quadling Country. Word traveled quickly between the Animals and when Elphaba heard about a massacre in a place called Fede she had to do _something_. It felt as though an infinite abyss stretched between the green girl and carefree life at Shiz, but that didn't mean she'd forgotten her friends.

Animals weren't yet persecuted much in the south, so Elphaba wasn't totally surprised to see an elderly Goose flapping past her broom. "Excuse me," she called. "Do you happen to know where I might find a village called Fede?"

"You shouldn't to be going there," the Bird told her sadly with a heavy Qua'ati accent.

"A friend of mine used to live there," Elphaba told him firmly. "She may be there now. Please tell me." The Goose gestured towards a plume of sickly black smoke. "Thank you."

"You should to be careful," he warned before moving on. The green girl nodded and urged her broom forward, more worried than before. As Fede came into view her eyes were drawn to a smoking black mound; a funeral pyre. Quadlings burned their dead. _Oh sweet Oz. _

In a whoosh of air Elphaba landed behind her friend's kneeling form. The blonde didn't react. "Leyen." Still nothing. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. What happened here was…" She trailed off in disgust.

"I want you to kill them."

"What?"

"The men that did this," Leyen elaborated, hands clenching into fists. "You're powerful enough; make them pay." Elphaba was taken aback.

"I can't do that."

"Why?" The blonde's voice was dead.

"I may be a fugitive but I'm not a murderer."

"Murder is the killing of another human being," Leyen argued in a stiff monotone. "Those men aren't human. They deserve to die."

"I know they do," the green girl soothed, wrapping an awkward arm around her crouched friend. "But an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

"The world's already blind," Leyen wailed. She turned, revealing the face of a terrified, grief ridden girl. Two green eyes displayed her shattered faith in the world and an anger she couldn't understand or control. "The world let this happen. They didn't care enough to stop it." Violent weeping shook her body. Elphaba wasn't good at comfort, but deep, protective instincts prompted her to pull the blonde into a tight embrace.

"We've got to leave here," she murmured after the worst had passed. "Your parents must be worried."

"I don't care if they _die _of worry," Leyen whimpered savagely. "They hated Fede. They petitioned to have the Yellow Brick Road built."

"Stop it Leyen," Elphaba said sharply. "This isn't you."

"It is now," she growled. "I was wrong about the world. You were right; it _is_ nothing but villainy and darkness."

"I never said that," the green witch insisted, pulling Leyen to her feet. "I just said that the world isn't all goodness."

"None of it's goodness."

"Stop!" Elphaba shouted, whirling to look into the blonde's eyes. "Listen to me. If you allow the pain to change you, to make you into something you aren't, you're letting them win. Don't allow those inhuman people to have that kind of power."

Something in Leyen's face changed. It was as if she were breaking from some sort of pain induced trance. Her eyebrows creased with determination. "I want to fight."

"What?"

"I'm finally ready," the blonde explained with a deep breath. "I can't just stand by and let things happen anymore. Take me with you; I want to fight the Wizard. He had a heavy hand in this." A deep shadow passed through her hard eyes.

"No."

"Why not?" Leyen demanded.

"I wouldn't damn anyone else to this life," Elphaba responded cuttingly. "Especially you."

"Do you think I'm weak?"

"You don't know what you're asking for," the green girl hissed. "And, much as I hate him, I don't think the Wizard wanted or knew about this."

"Then I've got to warn other villages," Leyen sighed, abruptly filled with the aching exhaustion of someone twice her age. "Thanks for coming Fabala." A little of the girl she'd been showed through in her weak smile.

"You're my friend," Elphaba shrugged, as if that explained everything. "And thanks…thanks for not running away in terror." It was so nice to have a conversation that didn't involve screaming. "Would you give Nessarose and Glinda a hug for me whenever you see them next?"

"Of course."

"But don't tell them that I sent it," the witch hastened to clarify. "It's better if I'm out of their lives." Leyen nodded, though she didn't quite understand.

///

Insects clicked incessantly in Leyen's ears as she rode through the night on her father's war stallion, a blue roan named Quagmire. The stolen horse would be fast enough to reach Kwane, another village in the Yellow Brick Road's path, by morning. Leyen wouldn't be returning to Shiz. How could she after everything that happened? This was the dawning of a new life for the blonde.

Though her murderous anger had subsided Leyen was still possessed with a fierce need to do _something_. If rebelling against the Wizard was useless then she at least had to prevent this from occurring again. That meant alerting other villages to the horrors that might befall them if they refused to leave. The blonde's trust in the world lay in shambles and she felt an almost motherly urge to protect others from its harshness.

Still Leyen wondered what in Oz she was getting herself into. Despite the maturity her brush with murder had brought on, the blonde was still absurdly naive. She didn't understand politics or war or people. In fact at that moment everything, from her immediate future to the fate of Oz, seemed totally uncertain. "Heway help me," Leyen murmured as she pressed further into the night.

///

Nessarose couldn't sleep. Dreams of blood and pain flashed beneath her eyelids whenever they slipped shut. Angrily she turned towards Leyen's bed, only to find it empty. _Of course, _the invalid remembered. _She's visiting her parents. _For some reason this terrified Nessa. Everyone was leaving. First Elphaba, her perpetual caregiver, then Galinda, who left behind a distracted ghost, and now Leyen, the girl willing to love without pity. _No, _she growled. _Leyen's coming back. _But even now doubt clutched her heart. _You still have Boq, _Nessa reminded herself. _And Father. _Nothing terrified the invalid more than being alone, without a single soul to love her.

///

Kwane was located in a shaded lagoon, overhung with threads of willow and guarded by somber stone cliffs. Shadow draped itself over the village like a shroud. Among Quadlings Kwane was known for its powerful sorcerers. These bog magicians spent days healing those that came looking for help, and evenings perfecting their art. However tonight an older sorcerer named Iban was breaking that ritual. His broad shoulders and strong body easily bore the brunt of fifty two years. Laugh lines wrinkled across the man's ruddy face like ripples on a pond. Thinning black hair marched across either side of Iban's head, leaving the middle starkly bare.

Though more given to cheerful smiles the sorcerer's face was tight with worry at present. His son, an eighteen year old by the name of Kucharo, seemed bent on a life of savage destruction. If it weren't for Quadling Country's moistness the boy's last escapade could've resulted in a forest fire. Now, in the privacy of his hut, Iban was determined to set things straight. "Kucha we need to talk."

"Why's that?" Kucharo, a lean, hawk faced quadling responded.

"You're causing problems up and down this Kwane," the sorcerer grumbled. "This can't go on. Someone will get hurt and you'll have thrown your life away."

"I think you worry too much."

"I don't think you worry enough," Iban huffed. "Kucha this village is your family. You're responsible for the protection and safety of this family. Can't you grasp that?" Before Kucharo could answer with a clever but slightly insulting statement he was interrupted.

"There's a girl here asking for you," exclaimed a flustered woman, sticking her bewildered head through the doorway. "She claims to be from Fede."

"You sound suspicious," Iban observed sagely.

"She's _Gillikinese_," the woman responded.

"Please let me speak with him," pleaded a soft voice from outside.

"She speaks Qua'ati?" Kucharo wondered with surprise. At that moment a green eyed blonde squeezed her way into the hut.

**Sorry if the end was a little jumpy and slow (well the whole chapter was kinda slow), but I promise it's necessary. It seems like some readers just disappeared over the last two chapters so if you're still out there PLEASE review…they mean the world to me. **


	14. Kwane

**Sorry it's been awhile…my excuse is that the end of the year is drawing closer (yay…summer break!) but so are finals and AP exams and let's-see-if-we-can-give-them-so-much-work-their-heads-will-explode projects…I've got the rest of this story plotted out but I just haven't had any time to actually sit down and write…I'll try to squeeze a chapter or two in before cramming time sets in but updates may be slower from now on (I promise; once summer break starts I'll update faster than you guys can read!)**

Iban was somewhat taken aback by the age of his visitor. Even the best Vinkun trackers and Gillikinese outdoorsmen would have difficulty finding Kwane, yet here was this girl, who couldn't be older than Kucharo. She gave a curt, nervous nod of greeting, clearly unsure how to proceed. "My name is Leyen," the blonde introduced. "I'm sorry for barging in like this, but there's something Kwane needs to know about. I was told you were the most influential man in the village."

"Who told you a thing like that?" Iban chuckled modestly, though it was probably true. Kucharo rolled his eyes.

"Fieb," Leyen answered. Her voice tightened painfully around the name. Iban's expression morphed into one of somewhat unpleasant recognition.

"Well I can see I'm not needed here," Kucharo interjected, his words falling into a pool of loaded silence. The hawk-faced boy moved to leave, shaggy hair flopping across his vividly crimson brow.

"No," Iban commanded. "It's time you learn how to _calmly_ deal with problems." He turned back to the blonde visitor. "So what _is_ the problem? How is Fieb doing?"

"She's dead," Leyen murmured. All the suppressed tears broke free at that moment, washing away what was left of her composure. "I'm sorry," the blonde blubbered. She wiped frantically at her blotchy cheeks, which were now burning with the embarrassment of breaking down in front of total strangers.

"Dead?" Iban repeated.

"Yes," Leyen affirmed, managing to get a hold on her wild emotions. "The men hired to build the Yellow Brick Road refused to peacefully negotiate Fede's relocation. They…they killed everyone and dumped the bodies into the river." More saltwater scoured its way down her cheeks. "I came here to warn you." Shock froze the muggy air.

"Are you sure?" Iban wondered incredulously.

"The village is covered in blood," Leyen responded. "Go check if you don't believe me."

"I don't doubt that something terrible must have happened to Fede," he assured her, choking a little on the words. "But are you certain it was men hired by the Wizard? What about blood fever or another pack of rabid river dogs?"

"I watched one of the workers kill my sister with a machete," the blonde told him in an angered, stony tone. "She told me what happened before they came back."

"We should track down those dirty slugs and burn them," Kucharo exploded, jolting to his feet. "Father surely you'll agree that we can't allow such a heinous crime to go unpunished." His eyes blazed with an intense need for justice that Leyen had only ever seen in one other person. Elphaba.

"Kucharo we are quadlings," Iban insisted, though he too was visibly shaken. "We heal, not kill. Our very lifestyle is to live as a family with the rest of the world."

"Families don't kill their own kin," Kucharo pressed. "These men are _not _part of any family I belong to."

"We can discuss all this later," the sorcerer sighed. Two rough fingers gingerly massaged his throbbing temples. "Right now you should show Leyen to the empty hut near the edge of the village."

"But…"

"Now," Iban growled with uncharacteristic severity.

///

"She's not coming back is she?" Nessa asked of no one in particular. She and Glinda were sharing yet another silent lunch on the grass swathed banks of Suicide Canal. Fiyero was filling out paperwork for a position with the Gale Force, though Glinda has assured him that his relationship with her would be enough to convince the Wizard. Boq, on the other hand, was visiting his family. Another awful drought was rocking the Corn Basket and munchkins everywhere were paying a heavy price.

"Who's not coming back?" Glinda wondered. "Elphaba?"

"No," Nessarose clarified, not making eye contact. "Leyen. She's three days late and there's been no news. A letter would've gotten here by now."

"Maybe something came up with her family."

"She would've let me know," the invalid insisted forcefully. "I'm her _best friend_." Glinda flinched. _Her_ best friend was living the life of a hunted fugitive and she'd done nothing to stop it. "What if something happened to her?" Nessarose demanded with uncharacteristic concern. Again the blonde stiffened. What if something had happened? What if Elphaba was lying cold and still in a ditch?

"I'm sure she's ok," Glinda muttered, though she wasn't talking about Leyen anymore. "She _must_ be ok."

"Everything's so quiet and lifeless without her," Nessa observed sagely. The invalid distractedly polished an apple with her shirt sleeve.

"Yep," Glinda agreed.

"I never thought I'd miss all those immature little pranks she played."

"I never thought I'd miss all those cynical comments."

"Or her easy laughter."

"Or those deep conversations that made my head hurt."

"Well at least we've got Fiyero and Boq," Nessarose laughed weakly after a moment of contemplative silence.

///

Leyen was desperately homesick. Not for Fede, like before, but for Shiz. Not the place but the people. Nessa. Glinda. She even missed Fiyero and Boq. Life in Kwane was knotted with trepidation. Leyen's news spread like blood fever, and now an insubstantial cloud of dread hung over everything. Though she'd had nothing to do with the genocide, villagers saw her as the bearer of bad news. Also she was Gillikinese; the enemy. Those that didn't immediately dislike the blonde fell on her with unwanted physical contact and kindness soaked in pity. Leyen finally understood why Nessa hated being doted on so much.

Iban was busy with meetings about Kwane's future. Kucharo disappeared into the woods everyday to do who knows what. Only Quagmire, her stolen horse, felt like a true friend. He had grayish blue fur flecked with darker spots and a tangled black mane. A nearby meadow of swamp grass provided perfect grazing for the massively built beast, and Leyen spent most of her time there enjoying his quiet camaraderie. One day she brought paper and ink.

_Dear Nessa,_

_I don't have the words to describe how my life has changed in the last week…_

No that wasn't right.

_Dear Nessa,_

_ I know you must be worried due to my lack of communication but…_

Again Leyen paused, chewing thoughtfully on the quill she'd stolen from her father's study before departing.

_Dear Nessa,_

_ Please know that I haven't forgotten about or abandoned you. In fact I've wished you were here almost every moment since arriving. Unfortunately my life has changed in a horrendible and totally unpredicted way; a way I do not have words to describe. Despite the fact that I miss you acutely I will not be returning to Shiz in the near future. I'm needed here and my parents are no longer willing to pay…_

This time the blonde was distracted by a rustling sound in the forest surrounding Quagmire's meadow. She jerked up to see Kucharo disappearing into the thick foliage. Leyen knew, logically, that she shouldn't go after him. He wasn't a friend of hers and clearly wanted to be alone. However curiosity, combined with painful boredom, spurred the blonde to follow.

**Sorry for the slowness…things will get faster in the near future…**


	15. Stand Up

**Don't worry; Leyen **_**will **_**turn out to be known as a good witch…it will just take time…**

**PLEASE READ: in order to write this story with as much information from the Wicked canon as well as the Oz series canon interwoven through it I did A LOT of research beforehand on the witch of the south and quadling country in general…a lot of this information will be interspersed in this story and, in case anyone is as obsessed with Oz as me, I want you to know that the information from the Oz series books matches with the witch of the north rather than the witch of the south because in the original Oz book Glinda is the witch of the south (so I just switched them). **

Kucharo, despite his father's assumptions, wasn't guilty of arson. In fact those two fires had been total accidents, the result of a rather unconventional hobby. The forest kept his secret well, wreathing it in drippy vines and thick greenery. However all the foliage in the world couldn't keep out a certain blonde's curious gaze.

///

Leyen couldn't quite make sense of the sight before her. It looked to be a raised stage, built from soggy bogwood. Mossy wooden gears were embedded throughout this structure, giving it a mechanical appearance that the blonde couldn't even hope to understand. Kucharo was nowhere to be found.

Warily Leyen crept forward and scrambled onto the stage. She nearly tripped over several strategically placed stones; a newly made fire pit. "Kucharo?" Suddenly the blonde felt with certainty that she was invading a private space. As Leyen turned to leave something over her shoulder sizzled worryingly. She whirled just in time to see a burst of flame blaze into the fire pit.

"Yes!" It was a cry of boyish triumph, exploding from a nearby treetop. Moments later Kucharo's lean form slithered down the trunk, coiled with excitement. Then he saw her. "What are you doing here?" It was the first time Leyen got a good look at Iban's rebellious son. He had deep, dark eyes and a shock of shaggy midnight hair. Though all quadlings had a reddish complexion Kucharo's was particularly vivid, which only made his sharp facial features all the more striking.

"I…I'm sorry," Leyen stuttered, taking an intimidated step backwards.

"You followed me didn't you?" Kucharo swung onto the stage. "Why?"

"I was worried you were going to do something stupid," she fibbed, "about the workers on the Yellow Brick Road." For a moment the quadling scrutinized her with narrowed eyes.

"You're lying." Surprisingly he didn't sound angry. "Tell me the truth."

"Fine," Leyen huffed. "I was…curious."

"I see." Silence. "Are you going to tell my father?"

"No!" The blonde's voice was snippier than usual, sharpened by an issue close to her heart. "You're old enough to live without parents breathing down your neck." Kucharo grinned.

"Sounds like you are too." For some reason the quadling's assured tone really irked Leyen.

"So why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?" she asked forcefully. "And what in Oz was that fireball?"

"A successful experiment," Kucharo shrugged. "I tied a thin string, coated in a flammable oil, from the top of a tree to the fire pit. Then all it took was a spark and BAM; instant fireball." His expression turned sheepish. "It took me awhile to get the oil mixture right, so the first few attempts had some unwanted results."

"The fires," Leyen realized. Her brow creased. "So what's the point of all this?"

"It's an entertaining distraction from all life's shortcomings." Kucharo turned his deep eyes on the puzzled blonde, suddenly serious. "You understand that don't you?"

"No," Leyen admitted. "Not really."

"Didn't you realize anything when that man killed your sister?" he demanded. "Didn't you realize that life really isn't as good as we think it is, or good at all for that matter?"

"You don't know anything about that kind of pain," Leyen hissed, knocked breathless by a sudden wave of grief. Why was Kucharo talking to her about this? She barely knew him.

"Three years ago I watched my mother die of blood fever," he whispered. "We were on a hunting trip far from the village, so there was nowhere to go for help. She was in the grip of torment until the very end and I couldn't do a thing." The blonde's heart clenched upon hearing this. No death was more painful than one by way of blood fever. "We're the same you and I," Kucharo pressed. "We've both seen the world as it really is." Leyen didn't particularly now how to respond. She wasn't sure of anything at the moment, and revisiting the source of her pain to answer moral questions wasn't an option.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" the blonde whispered. Her quiet voice was drawn taut with unhealed anguish.

"I'm sorry," Kucharo apologized, suddenly remembering himself. "I shouldn't have brought that up so soon." He sighed and settled onto the edge of the stage. "I've just been waiting so long to talk to someone who would understand." The quadling boy really did look embarrassed.

"It's alright," Leyen told him as she too took a seat on the stage. "You're the only person who's spoken to me without pity since…the incident. And I appreciate your honesty; even if it was rather sudden and blunt." Here the blonde's lips inched towards a tiny smile.

"My father always says that I'm too impulsive," Kucharo chuckled. He seemed totally at ease again. "I should probably work on that."

"Yeah," Leyen agreed. "You probably should." For a moment the blonde's companion couldn't seem to decide whether or not she was being serious. Then Leyen grinned, eliminating all doubt. Though the grin didn't reach her eyes it was the closest thing she'd felt to happiness in much too long.

///

Whether he liked it or not Kucharo had earned himself a partner in crime. Every day Leyen arrived in the marshy clearing to work on his latest project. Most ended in disaster, but at least the blonde wasn't alone anymore. For someone so stubbornly convinced of the world's tyranny Kucharo was an awfully cheerful person. Sometimes his witty banter was enough to make Leyen forget, if only for a brief, pain free second. At this point it was easier to pretend nothing had happened than face the grief.

"Kucharo?" The blonde took a few wary steps into the clearing. Her eyes swept through a blur of drippy treetops, watchful for mischief. "If you jump out at me again I swear to Oz I'll…"

"Think fast!" Leyen didn't even have time to react before a bucketful of mud slopped onto her head. The sneak attack was accented with hysterical laughter.

"I hate you," Leyen hissed good naturedly, wiping muck from her eyes.

"Hate is a strong word," Kucharo chuckled. He leapt down from his elevated hiding place, grasping a now empty bucket.

"I _will_ get you back for this," the blonde swore. "Someday you will pay." Kucharo's easygoing nature was such a far cry from Nessarose's rigid primness that Leyen sometimes experienced a sense of social vertigo.

"I think your hair looks better that way," the haughty quadling commented.

"You're quite pleased with yourself aren't you?" Leyen observed teasingly.

"Yes, I am." Before the impending war of insults could begin a long, drawn out note punctuated the gentle chatter of the forest. It was Kwane's seldom used alarm horn, crying out to all who would listen.

"They're back," Leyen whispered with cold certainty. "Oh sweet Oz no." She turned and sprinted towards the village with Kucharo's bare feet close behind. Their arrival was announce by splattering mud and squelching foliage.

"Leyen!" Iban shouted in relief. "The men you spoke of have been spotted. They've set up camp a few miles down the river."

"Let's teach those slugs a lesson," Kucharo snarled. He looked like a different person with his face twisted into bitterness.

"Violence is not the answer," Iban snapped. The older man's temper was worn thin with stress.

"But it's _an_ answer," Kucharo argued. "And it's the only one that satisfies justice."

"You wouldn't have a chance against these men," Leyen told him softly. "It's not an option."

"Thank you," Iban sighed, turning his attention exclusively to the blonde. "And thank you for coming to warn us of this threat."

"It wasn't really a choice," she murmured. "Where will Kwane be relocating to?"

"Kwane will not be relocating," Iban huffed with a distinctly masculine air of pride about him. "Though we will not respond with violence this village will not forfeit its land either."

"That mindset was Fede's downfall," Leyen told him forcefully. Her eyes burned like fiery emeralds.

"Fede didn't have you negotiating for them," Iban replied curtly. The blonde's jaw hung loose with horrified shock.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"But…no. I can't speak to those people. They killed…No; I can't."

"You must," the quadling sighed. "You're Gillikinese; they'll listen to you."

"Iban please don't make me do this. Please." Tears carved through the grime on Leyen's cheeks.

"I wouldn't have asked you if there was another choice."

**Oh SNAP!**

**Again, sorry for the wait. And I know Kucharo's hobby may seem random and pointless right now, but it plays a VERY important role in the 'Wicked' back story…you'll just have to wait and see**


	16. Negotiations

**Yay summer! This means I can write all I want (and not leave my bed if I so choose)…updates will most likely be a lot faster from here on out…**

Wick Castly was not a patient man. He didn't see the point in wading through negotiations with the mud soaked people of Quadling Country. Why even put forth the effort when it was so much simpler to just exterminate the brutes? However the Yellow Brick Road was a political project backed by the Wizard's own money, and politics required the consideration of silly things like morality and image. It wouldn't do well for these killings to reach civilized ears, but if they did a story had to be upheld. Who would believe muddy quadlings over Gillikinese workers? No one. And besides, the quadlings in question wouldn't be in any position to talk.

Still, Wick wanted the whole thing over with. He reclined against the warped trunk of a swamp tree and watched as a figure approached on horseback. It looked to be a woman, but that couldn't be right. "Do you suppose that's the emissary?" queried a young bricklayer by the name of Azie.

"Doesn't seem likely," Wick grunted in return. "Take a look at that horse. What quadling could afford such a stallion?"

"Could be a messenger from the Wizard," Azie commented.

"I doubt that man gives a damn what we do out here as long as his road gets finished." At this point it was possible to make out that their visitor was, in fact, a woman. She wasn't alone either. A wiry quadling clung to the saddle behind her. "Hello," Wick called as he sauntered towards the edge of the tent village. "What can we do for you?" He spoke exclusively to the Gillikinese girl.

"We were sent to negotiate Kwane's relocation," she responded curtly, "or its lack of relocation." Her eyes burned with such emotion that Wick found himself looking away. Rather than speak he gestured towards a grimy, canvas tent set apart for their purposes.

/

"What do you mean Kwane refuses to relocate?" Wick demanded, slamming his fist down on the moldy desktop between him and the visitors.

"It's unfair to request that an entire village move without compensation," the aggravating blonde girl responded firmly. "If this were Gillikin citizens would be paid handsomely to give up their land."

"But we aren't talking about Gillikinese merchants who'll whine the Wizard's ear off about every little injustice," the burly man growled. "These are mudcrawlers we're talking about. They live on the river. There are plenty of rivers in Quadling Country."

"It takes months if not years to re-thatch an entire village," the girl snapped. Her red skinned companion didn't say anything, but his eyes swam with accusations.

"Who are you?" Wick demanded. "Did those roaches hire you to save their muddy asses? Why do you give a damn?" It was immediately clear that he'd struck a nerve. The blonde didn't say anything, but her entire body seemed to vibrate like a tuning fork attempting to dilute some unspeakable rage. Sparks flew from her vividly emerald eyes and Wick felt something nudge his boot.

He looked down to find a thick vine crawling up from the loamy soil to entrap him. It slowly coiled up the man's leg as a woody root yanked at his other foot. "What in Oz's name?" Wick turned a pair of horrified eyes on the blonde. "Are you a bloody swamp witch?" She peered down at the crude man's feet and as her anger gave way to shock the bog flora halted its progress.

"I apologize," the girl stuttered, though it was clear she was only trying to remain on his good side. "May we continue to our negotia…"

"Get out!" Wick shouted, leaping to his feet. "I won't tolerate another wicked sorceress trying to meddle in the Wizard's affairs. You're just like that bloody green one!" Here the blonde smiled ever so slightly, as if he'd given her a lovely compliment. "Stay away from this camp and tell those mudcrawlers you love so much that they're toast!"

/

"I'm so sorry Kucharo," Leyen cried as they rode home. "I'm so sorry. If my emotions hadn't gotten away from me…"

"We wouldn't have discovered what you can do," he finished for her. "That was amazing." She turned her woeful eyes up at him.

"That was far from amazing," the blonde sniffled bitterly. "Sure some plants responded to my anger, but that's not going to help much when those workers come after Kwane with machetes. What you need is someone who can perform massive spells when they're mad, like Elphaba." Chirping insects filled the next empty minutes. "I can't believe I screwed up so badly," Leyen whimpered.

"It was a long shot," Kucharo reassured her. "Honestly I didn't expect things to go as well as they did. That's why I tagged along; to make sure you didn't end up rotting in some ditch."

"If I wasn't so upset right now I'd be offended by your lack of faith."

"It's not you I lack faith in, it's the world."

/

"You're going to fight them?" Leyen's voice was shrill with disbelief and horror. "This is madness. You're condemning Kwane to oblivion."

"I'm far from alone in this decision," Iban retorted. "A great majority of villagers agree. Those that do not are free to leave."

"But how can you even hope to…?"

"As with the negotiations we'll have a secret weapon," Kucharo responded with a clever smirk.

"Your 'secret weapon' didn't work so well last time," Leyen hissed. "And my weak little swamp magic is far from a weapon."

"We didn't say it was," Iban told her calmly. "But it has come to my attention that you are on close terms with the Wicked Witch of the West."

"I don't understand what that has to do with anything."

"She's done formidable damage to the Wizard."

"So?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Iban quoted sagely. Leyen's eyes grew wide with awareness.

"You want me to ask Elphaba to fight for you?" She shook her head in incredulity. Where did all these crazy plans come from? "That's impossible. I don't know how to reach her, and even if I could I'm not sure that Elphaba can actually _fight_ with her magic."

"I'm willing to bet that she can," the older quadling replied. He sank to the floor of his hut with a wise, rustling sigh. "How much do you know about sorcery?"

"Not much," Leyen admitted, somewhat put off by this sudden change of atmosphere. Suddenly the thatched house felt like one of Shiz's musty lecture halls.

"Magic can be divided into two categories; aggressive and defensive," Iban explained in a slow, methodical fashion. He would've made a good professor. "There are colors that correspond with each type. Green is the color of battle magic and red is the color of healing magic." Leyen turned this idea around in her head, trying to grasp where it fit into their crisis.

"That's why rubies are important to quadling culture," Kucharo added. "They help amplify the power of our healers."

"Why didn't I ever hear about this in Fede?" the blonde asked.

"It's a fairly obscure bit of knowledge," Iban responded, "but you can see its influence everywhere."

"Like the Emerald City," Leyen realized slowly.

"Exactly," Kucharo exclaimed, happy that she was catching on. "The Ozmas chose green to display their empire's power."

"It is believed that we quadlings have such prowess in the healing arts because of our red hue," Iban continued with a gentle grin, "and your friend Elphaba has _green_ skin."

"So you think she can help you win against the workers," the blonde whispered.

"At the very least she'll scare them," Kucharo chuckled. For a glorious moment hope flickered on the horizon and it all seemed possible. Then Leyen's eyes narrowed.

"How can you honestly believe this will work?" she demanded. "Kwane has no weapons and even if Heway drops swords from the sky no one here will have the faintest idea how to use them. I don't know how to reach Elphaba and even if I can there's no guarantee she'll help us." Leyen sucked in a deep breath to steady herself. "I know you have this picture built up in your mind of how powerful the Witch of the West must be, but she's no older than I am. The Gale Force hasn't caught Elphaba because she's quick and clever, but those advantages would go out the window in a head-on fight." The blonde turned to Kucharo. "You're the one who always expects the world to give out its worst. How can you think that be completely relaxed at a time like this?"

A long moment spanned between the two friends. "She's right," Kucharo admitted eventually. "This isn't possible."

"You young people forget the old faith so easily," Iban sighed. His wise gaze was full of gentle disappointment. "Sometimes the only thing to do is throw yourself at the impossible and just _believe_."

"You'll believe yourself to the grave," Kucharo hissed. "And I'm not going to stay here and watch you do it." He swept out. The blonde turned to follow.

"I'll understand if you want to leave," Iban said softly, "this must seem utterly hopeless, but Kwane _needs_ you." Leyen paused. Everything that happened here, from the mundane chores of daily life to each threat hanging above Kwane plucked at her memory of Fede. The massacre had shattered Leyen's faith in the world, and here Iban was asking her to try picking up the pieces. It was much, much too painful. Yet she'd stayed this long. The blonde cocked her head ever so slightly. Why was that?

"I can't let this happen again," she murmured inaudibly. Her hands clenched, bleaching each knuckle a bony white color. "Ok," Leyen said, turning back towards Iban. "What do you want me to do?" Rather than respond Iban pulled her into a crushing hug. It was the kind of hug Leyen had never received from her own father.

/

"Sweet Oz!" Leyen exclaimed in total frustration. She was hunched over a leathery slab of animal skin on which was scribbled an almost illegible spell. It was old and crumbly, meant for sending objects from one place to another. The blonde tripped clumsily over every syllable of the lost language. Only stuffy scholars could really decipher ancient spells, but certain people had the instinct for reading them. Leyen's talent for such things existed only faintly.

"If I don't get this right in the next hour I'm going to sleep," the blonde vowed again. In her lap she held a carefully folded envelope containing a letter to Elphaba. So far Leyen's garbled pronunciations had only made the wrinkled parchment glow. "Come on," she urged herself. "People are going to _die_ if you fail." Another wave of urgency crashed through the blonde's fevered mind. Tears hissed onto the candle she was reading by. "Heway why did you choose me for this?"

As exhaustion aided sobs overtook the blonde she bowed forward into a ball of sniffles. Suddenly a flash of bloody color warbled through Leyen's blurry vision. She wiped her eyes and was faced with a tear shaped ruby lying on the floor. Fieb's gift, having slipped off its hemp chord, now reflected a thousand happy memories.

_"Take it," Fieb instructed, folding Leyen's hesitant hands around the gift. "Promise me that, no matter what wonders the rest of Oz shows you, you won't forget us."_

_ "I promise." _

Leyen could almost see herself huddled on the riverbank with Fieb and Purus as the sun died. That was back when the world was bright and sane and happy. That was back when the blonde would've trusted Heway to solve any problem.

Again Leyen turned to the spell. She sang every word through teeth clenched with grief and the letter flashed into nonexistence.

**Sorry for the wait…**

**Please review (I will update faster if you do ****)**


	17. A Good Reputation

**Just a reminder; some Ozian flora is intelligent…like those apple trees in 'The Wizard of Oz'**

Rain drummed down on the Great Gillikin Forest like a swarm of wet, silvery insects. It had a cheerful beat and moist, resinous scent. For the longest time rain had been Elphaba's only music and perfume. Now she was curled beneath the washed out roots of a massive fir, trying in vain to stay dry. Elphaba longed to be back in the Vinkus where every wild plant was happy to fold her into the safety of its leafy bosom. Unfortunately Gillikinese trees were too tame and unintelligent for such things.

With a sigh the green girl unrolled all that was left of her food supply. There wasn't much; three apples, a wedge of cheese, and some dry meat. It was a gift from some grateful Raccoon rebels that she'd given a hand. Elphaba enjoyed helping subversive Animals more than the ones that just curled up in a corner and waited for capture. It was more dignified to go down kicking.

Carefully the green girl removed an apple and slipped everything else back into her satchel. It wouldn't be long before she had to stop to find more food. Another downside of traveling in Gillikin; no Vinkun blackberries.

Elphaba pushed these unpleasant thoughts from her mind; it was her own fault that she was here. After months of hiding the witch felt obliged to check in on Nessarose. Well, perhaps obliged wasn't the right word. If Elphaba was being honest with herself, an increasingly rare occurrence, she might have admitted that this visit was based more on emotional attachment than obligation. Unfortunately Shiz was located at the junction of two major transportation modes, an altogether inconvenient location for a fugitive. Getting in and out of the university without being seen would be almost impossible.

But she had to know if Nessa was alright.

Elphaba sighed and curled into a tight ball with her apple. There were still two nights travel until Shiz. Maybe a brilliant plan would present itself.

Two seconds later a brilliant plan did.

Something flashed in the witch's peripheral vision, resulting in a swift jerk of flighty reflexes. Luckily the threat was nothing more than a crumpled, parchment letter. Elphaba curiously tore it open and found herself faced with Leyen's whirling script.

Minutes later a cloaked, green figure blazed from the Great Gillikin Forest on broomstick.

/

Azie Corkson was nervous. A fine rain had raised fog from Quadling Country's soggy soil. It wafted around the workers, drawing fine fingers of mist across their weapons. "Do you suppose this is the doing of that swamp witch?" the young bricklayer questioned.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Wick grunted. He was the headman of the operation and therefore leading everyone else to Kwane. Of course, even Wick could get turned around in this fog.

"I wonder if the village will be empty when we get there," Azie mused quietly. "This would be a whole lot easier if those roaches weren't so damn stubborn."

"Hopefully they got the message and cleared out," huffed Jaybo, a middle aged Wolf. He'd bought his family time to escape the Wizard by volunteering for this. "Violence makes any job two times harder."

"Aww come off it," Wick grumbled. "Mucking through this hellhole is no fun unless you get a little blood on your hands. Personally I'd love to teach these particular mudcrawlers a lesson about meddling with sorcery." Not everyone in the camp agreed with Wick's bloodthirsty tactics, but challenging the headman was a surefire way to make your life miserable.

Suddenly a long, drawn out note whistled through the air. It was high, reedy, and, in this situation, very, very creepy. Azie gripped his knife tighter. "What's going on?" he whispered. More disturbing cries filled the air.

"Please turn back," called an authoritative feminine voice. "Leave Kwane in peace."

"We don't answer to enemies of the Wizard," Wick shouted back, though no one could really tell where the speaker was located.

"In stopping this violence I am _protecting_ the Wizard's people. By murdering in the name of our ruler _you_ on the other hand are soiling his name. Now please go back."

"Like hell we will!" the headman spat. With that bold declaration he charged forward, followed by dozens of other men. Abruptly the unearthly fog lifted, revealing a flat plane of marsh grass. Eight quadlings and the Gillikinese girl stood in a loose half circle with flutes clutched in their hands. So_ that_ was where the creepy noise came from.

Azie watched as the savages fled, running headlong into a receding bank of fog. Then all of a sudden the ground dropped out from underneath them. It was a cliff. Splashes could be heard as each quadling escaped into the deep pool below. It would've been the perfect getaway if one boy hadn't tripped. He smacked flat into the grass, giving Wick time to reach him. Just as the headman's hands were closing in the blonde witch intervened.

She careened into Wick at top speed, fists whirling. Had the girl been a little larger and thicker built some damage might've been done. As it was she barely allowed her quadling friend enough of a distraction to escape. The headman quickly subdued his attacker and shoved her into the arms of two waiting workers.

Azie joined Wick at the cliff top. Below rippled a massive expanse of murky river with Kwane floating on the far bank. Several quadlings, armed with crude spears and stone knives, stood waiting in the village. It was laughingly pitiful.

/

Leyen had failed in her plan to frighten off the workers. So much for the old faith Iban spoke of. They were all going to die. A handful of homemade weapons wouldn't do much good against armed men. She hoped the quadlings below would realize their plight and run.

"Did you really think that little trick would scare us away?" The blonde was jerked back to reality by the feel of steel against her throat. That grotesque man called Wick, the one she'd negotiated with, was leering only inches away.

"Well what are you going to do with me?" Leyen demanded. "I'm sure my parents would pay you plenty to have me safe at home." Maybe, if these men let money overrule their sense, the blonde could get home and tell someone in power what was happening. But by then Kucharo and Iban would be dead…

"You know too much," Wick explained, pressing the tip of his knife into Leyen's neck. A single drop of crimson blood dripped free.

"Kill me then," she snarled. Surely death would be better than watching her family die _again_.

"With pleasure," the headman responded. Leyen closed her eyes and waited for the pain.

_I'm coming Purus, _she thought, almost managing to brush happiness. _Heway help me. _

"Let her go." Seconds later Leyen was released. She turned to see Elphaba hovering just beyond the cliff top. Her emerald face was livid with fury.

/

Being a wicked witch had some advantages. One such advantage was laid out before Elphaba in the form of thirty odd men. They were all much stronger and probably more dangerous than her, yet each practically quivered with terror. She couldn't help smirking a little. They deserved it. "May I ask why you're here?" the green girl queried. It was quite obvious, but she wanted to hear them say it.

"To b..build the Yellow B..brick Road," stuttered their block faced leader.

"I see," Elphaba responded cordially. "Forgive me, I don't know much about road making, but wouldn't trowels and bricks be more useful than those weapons you're carrying?"

"Y..yes," muttered a younger man.

"I see," the witch continued. "So why, may I ask, do you have clubs and knives with you?" No one answered. Elphaba fixed them with a seething glare. "I'm sure you weren't about to massacre a village in the name of some fraudulent tyrant," she hissed.

At that point about half the assembled men fled. When Elphaba gathered a flickering, jade fireball around her hand all others were quick to follow. Unfortunately the green girl knew they'd return as soon as she disappeared again, and if she didn't disappear someone would alert the Gale Force. A follow up attack was in order.

With a quick nod to Leyen the Wicked Witch of the West streaked away in pursuit of her quarry.

/

"Fabala!" Leyen cried, finally locating her friend hours later. The green girl was perched on a hilltop with her dark, hawkish eyes slicing through the forest below. Quagmire, the blonde's stolen horse, wearily slowed to a halt. He was tired from traipsing through swampland all afternoon. "You're a hard girl to find," Leyen huffed, staggering up the hill towards Elphaba. "I saw the camp; very intimidating."

Here the emerald witch grinned. Earlier she'd rained a good deal of fiery debris down on the workers' tents. "I don't think they'll be inclined to persecute Kwane again," Elphaba agreed. Then a cloud wafted gently across her expression. "Just more innocent victims of the Wicked Witch I suppose."

"They weren't innocent."

"But that's how the world will hear it." The blonde wanted to tell her friend that she was being silly and everything would be alright, but they both knew it wouldn't.

"Thank you Fabala," Leyen said quietly, "for helping us."

"I didn't really have a choice," Elphaba explained. "There are some things that are worth protecting, even at a great cost." Here she cast a fond glance at the blonde. "But you know that already don't you?"

"Yeah," Leyen shrugged. She straightened up a moment later, looking determined. "I still want to help, if you'll let me."

"My first answer still stands," Elphaba replied stonily. "I will _not_ get you wrapped up in the life of a fugitive."

"You may not be able to stop me," the blonde pointed out. "After all, I'll always know how to reach you."

"Sending me a message by way of magic isn't exactly something they lock you up for," Elphaba snorted. "If you really want to help, keep an eye on Nessa so I don't have to."

"Yes your Wickedness," Leyen responded cheekily.

/

Artie watched as a young Gillikinese girl faced down the Wicked Witch of the West. Both sorceresses stood face to face, brows furrowed as if in argument. Artie was shocked that the green one didn't destroy her blonde counterpart in a whirl of violent flame. Perhaps the swamp witch was more powerful than Wick had assumed.

She pointed towards the sky, clearly sending the Wicked Witch away, and her order was obeyed. Artie's jaw dropped. He had to tell the Wizard about this southern witch that dared defy Oz's most hated enemy. It wouldn't take terribly long for a letter to read the Emerald City from Qhoyre…

**So Leyen will become known as a good witch the same way Elphaba became known as a wicked witch; a misunderstanding…**

**Did anyone catch the cameo from a 'Good' and 'Goodness' character? Virtual cookies if you can figure it out!**


	18. Princess Locasta

"Yenlay!" Kucharo shouted as soon as the blonde came into view. Night had fallen and Kwane was awash in the festive glow of roaring bonfires; it was one big celebration.

"Hey Kucha!" Leyen responded cheerfully. She was unexpectedly swept into a crushing hug.

"We won!" the quadling exclaimed. His face practically glowed with radiance. "You saved Kwane."

"I did no such thing," Leyen responded, looking down. "It was Iban's idea."

"But you pulled it off," Kucharo insisted. "Everyone's been calling you a hero."

"Oh great," the blonde groaned. "Please tell them Elphaba did all the work."

"So you can go hide? Not a chance." With that Kucharo yanked his friend towards the largest and most populous bonfire.

"There she is!" Iban cried. "Our very own Princess Locasta." Two vivid poppies bloomed across Leyen's cheeks. Princess Locasta was a legendary quadling ruler, supposedly responsible for protecting the south's precious rubies from Kumbrica. It was actually quite ironic considering that Leyen had summoned a girl some would call Kumbrica's reincarnation.

"I didn't really _do_ anything," the blonde repeated. Not a soul listened. Instead everyone around the fire raised cheers of 'long live Princess Locasta' and 'Sorceress Yenlay'.

"Face it, you're a celebrity," Kucharo chuckled. He pressed a wooden cup of root ale into her hand. It wasn't nearly as strong as Gillikinese or Munchkin Land liquor, but Leyen didn't usually drink. She took a cautionary sip, resulting in hacking coughs.

"It's bitter," the blonde complained through a scratchy throat.

"I know," Kucharo replied. "If you don't have the guts for that stuff I'll drink it." He sat them down on a bench just outside the flickering fingers of torchlight.

"No, it's fine," Leyen told him. This position had its advantages. She could listen to the storytelling without anyone recognizing her and raising a fuss. Feeling more peaceful than she had in weeks the blonde took another swig of ale. This one was a little less repulsive.

"So what are you gonna do now?" Kucharo asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you were only here to warn us about what happened to Fede," the quadling reminded gently. "So what's the plan now?"

"I guess I don't really have a plan," Leyen admitted, leaning back into him a little. Her lids were slowly getting heavier. "My parents pretty much disowned me, and I couldn't bear to go back there anyway. Fabala wants me to check in on Nessarose and I could stay at Shiz for a few days, but living there requires tuition, which I haven't got. For now I guess Kwane is home."

"Good."

"Why's that good?"

"Kwane would be awfully boring if you left."

"Yeah," the blonde chuckled. "You'd have no one to dump mud on." Kucharo said something else then, but Leyen had already nodded off onto his shoulder.

/

"Princess there's someone here to see you," Kucharo called into Leyen's hut. It was three or four days after Kwane's victory and some people were still calling her Locasta. Luckily only Kucharo had shortened the name to Princess which he now used regularly.

"Who is it?" the blonde wondered curiously. Most people would've just come in.

"A guy on horseback in a green uniform," the quadling shouted back. "He's Gillikinese and very well dressed." Disdain came through in Kucharo's tone.

"I'll be there in a second."

/

Leyen recognized the pompous man as a messenger from the Emerald City. He wore unnaturally bright, viridian clothes trimmed with tassels of dazzling gold. His long legged horse stomped impatiently, already eager to be on the move.

"You wanted to see me?" The messenger had clearly expected someone in more civilized garb. Leyen's hair was interwoven with forest debris and her once terracotta dress was horribly stained.

"Ah yes," he responded, clearing his throat. "I presume you are the Swamp Witch of Kwane."

"There are many female sorcerers in Kwane," the blonde told him evenly, "but I'm the only one to have been referred to as a swamp witch."

"You're the only Gillikinese girl too I presume?"

"Yes."

"Then this is for you." The messenger leaned forward to hand Leyen a flamboyantly emerald envelope. It bore the Wizard's personal insignia.

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome Miss," the young man replied, more out of obligation than anything else. "It would be wise to open that immediately. The Wizard doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"I'll keep that in mind," Leyen told him firmly. Clearly unwelcome the messenger rode off.

"What is it?" Kucharo demanded, sliding to the blonde's side.

"Either very good or very bad news," his friend reported. "The Great Oz thinks me worthy of attention."

"That's from the _Wizard_?" Kucharo's eyes grew to the size of swamp apples. Leyen just nodded and carefully opened her envelope.

/

"You don't have to leave," Iban told the blonde firmly. "Not even the Wizard would send men into the heart of Quadling Country. Some parts of the deep swamp have never seen Gillikinese eyes."

"If I refuse this offer soldiers will come here first, looking for me," Leyen countered. "It would be silly to put Kwane in danger if such a thing is avoidable. Besides, the invitation was quite friendly."

"But what of Elphaba?" the older man argued. "You've seen how our ruler wrecked her life."

"Fabala has an unparalleled temper when something she cares about is threatened," Leyen pointed out. "Though I love that girl dearly her actions in the Emerald City were undeniably rash. I, on the other hand, am prepared for the Wizard's villainy and plan to remain calm."

"So you'd give in to that tyrant's wishes to save your own skin?" Iban growled.

"No," the blonde snapped. "I would lie to him, as opposed to busting a hole in the Emerald Palace's roof and flying away, vowing revenge." A tiny grin crinkled the skin around Iban's eyes.

"Well there's obviously no hope of dissuading you," he allowed. "I just ask that you think carefully about this decision."

"If I have to face a viper, I'd prefer it be one whose venom I'm immune to," Leyen quoted. It was an old southern saying.

"Well goodbye then, Princess Locasta," Iban sighed. "I pray that you one day grace Kwane again with your presence."

"Goodbye to you too," the blonde replied. Leyen didn't dare track Kucharo to his clearing for a proper goodbye. It was better that she not face that sort of heartache at all.

Still the blonde's vision was blurry as Quagmire left Kwane in the distance.

/

Nessarose carefully twisted her hair into a tight, emotionless bun. _It suits me, _she decided. After all, what governor-to-be would keep her hair down in such a needlessly girlish fashion? Likewise the invalid's dark violet dress, with its thick, long sleeves and high neckline, was an improvement over those bright, frilly frocks she used to wear. With a sigh Nessarose turned from the mirror to her bed and the empty one beside it. She'd be moving out of this suite next week, apparently Leyen's parents would no longer fund their daughter's education.

It was bad enough that the blonde herself had disappeared, but now a roomful of memories would also be stolen from Nessarose. Life seemed determined to take all it could from the invalid. Someone knocked gently and Nessa quickly composed herself. "Who is it?"

"Leyen." The invalid nearly toppled a vase in her rush to open the door. Dark quoxwood moved aside to reveal a fair blonde with vividly emerald eyes. Still Nessarose had to squint before she made out anything that even resembled her best friend in that raw, solemn face.

"Sweet Oz," the invalid gushed moments later. "It's so good to see you." Leyen knelt into an awkward hug. The two women had a lot to catch up on, but this seemed like as good a place as any to start.

/

After a lot of explaining Nessarose and Leyen found themselves lying side by side on the invalid's bed resting against its headboard. Naturally the blonde had omitted some things from her story, namely Fede's brutal downfall and all encounters with Elphaba. Instead she focused on living in Kwane, telling her friend about Kucharo and Iban.

"Leyen what happened to you?" Nessa wondered softly.

"Noth…"

"I'm not an idiot," the invalid hissed. "Something happened that you're not telling me; something big." Leyen was sorely tempted to lie. She didn't want to revisit her personal horrors at all, much less with innocent Nessarose. Besides, Elphaba clearly didn't want any loved ones to hear concerning news of her exploits.

However, just as the blonde was preparing to spin out a web of half-truths, weeks of suppressed anguish suddenly boiled through her body. Images of Purus's last moments, buried for so long where they couldn't sting, returned with a vengeance. "Th…they killed Purus," she whimpered.

"What?" Nessarose gasped. "Who?"

Then, in a messy, tearful rush everything came pouring out.

Allowing herself to be unhappy was a new experience for Leyen, but now that no impending genocides loomed in the future she could finally grieve. It was also strange for Nessarose who, being the younger sister, had always been on the receiving end of Elphaba's doting kindness. Being needed by a friend was strange, but not totally unwelcome.

Leyen leaned into Nessa's shoulder while the invalid rubbed soothing circles on her back. They sat that way for a long time, until no more tears fell. Things would only get easier from here.

/

"You're going to see the Wizard?" Nessarose demanded. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"Because I knew you'd freak out," Leyen explained with a knowing look. "And you _are_ freaking out, aren't you?"

"Well of course," the invalid sputtered indignantly. "In case you've forgotten Elphaba went to see his Ozness and never came back."

"I wouldn't be able to stay at Shiz anyway," the blonde pointed out. "If the Wizard hadn't sent money with his letter I couldn't have afforded the trip here. Now there's just enough left for a coach to the Emerald City. It leaves in fifteen minutes." Tears slid down Nessa's face as another loved one slipped quietly away. "Don't cry," Leyen pleaded. "Whatever happens I won't just disappear; Elphaba made me promise to keep an eye on you."

"So now I'm the college girl that needs to be babysat by her fugitive older sister and best friend," the invalid snapped bitterly.

"I didn't mean it that way," Leyen assured her. "Fabala's just feels guilty about leaving, and she's terribly worried about you."

"Why?" Nessarose growled. "Because I'm a crippled governor-to-be that'll never be able to do anything by myself?"

"No," the blonde replied sharply. "Because your sister loves you." Leyen sighed. "And don't talk like that. You'll be the most remembered governor Munchkin Land's ever had." The invalid scowled for a moment before giving up.

"Just promise me you won't get yourself into foolish trouble with the Wizard," she requested softly.

"I won't," the blonde assured her friend. Hadn't she already had this conversation?

"Alright then," Nessarose sighed. "Be safe."

"I will."


	19. Meeting Oz

**I broke the 100 review mark with this story and it's not even halfway through; yay! Thanks to everyone who's been reading and even more thanks to those who have steadily reviewed…I love you guys!**

"The Great Oz will see you now," announced a wide faced man in ceremonial, green garb. He sported a thick, gingery beard and smiled welcomingly down at Leyen's nervous expression. She nodded her thanks before tottering through two massive doors of burnished metal. They gleamed at her as if threatening violence at the hands of hidden weapons.

Though Leyen had taken hours to mentally prepare herself she couldn't help a shiver of fear when the chamber was sealed with a resounding _thud_. Apart from the Wizard's mechanical head his throne room felt bare and anticlimactic. Viridian curtains sealed off one corner, causing the young witch to imagine a hidden battalion of soldiers.

_Stop that, _she told herself sternly. _If the Wizard wanted to do you harm he would've had the palace guards behead you. Relax. _

"Welcome Swamp Witch," the golden mask clanked. Leyen got an instinctual feeling that being addressed straight away by the Wizard was quite an honor. He must think her quite powerful. "I have heard a great many things about your deeds in Quadling Country. Please, come closer." Steely, emotionless eyes tracked the blonde's progress. If it wasn't already her naive youth must be painfully obvious by this point. She could almost feel Oz's ruler forming an opinion.

A hissing sound emanated from the head as its lighted gaze flickered out. Moments later Leyen was greeted by a cheerily aged man with kind eyes. For a second the witch was reminded of Iban and his gentle, fatherly manner. Surely this harmless elder couldn't be the source of so much misfortune.

"Sorry if my mechanics frightened you," he apologized sincerely, having clearly decided that she wasn't a threat. "It's just that the public expects a grander Wizard than I can be sometimes." Leyen watched the man as though he could sprout razor fangs at any moment. "You're a little young to be defying a dangerous, public enemy aren't you?"

"You're a little old to be masquerading as an all knowing Wizard," the witch countered. Immediately Leyen wished to take her words back. She'd meant them only teasingly, but such a statement could be easily misconstrued. Luckily the Wizard of Oz shared her sense of humor.

"Touché," he chuckled, extending a hand. "I'm Oscar Diggs by the way."

"Leyen Rhoda," the blonde responded politely. "It's nice to meet you." Beaming the Wizard clapped his hands and the enchanted curtains in the corner magically swept themselves aside to reveal a round, emerald table set with fine dishes.

"I imagine the journey here was quite tiresome," Oscar observed companionably. "Would you care to join me for lunch while we chat?" The unexpectedly cordial atmosphere was really throwing Leyen for a loop. She'd been expecting fierce ultimatums and death threats.

"S..sure," the blonde stuttered, taking a seat.

"So," Oscar began, pouring his guest a cup of tea, "I've heard a great deal about your exploits in Quadling Country. Sources tell me you not only rescued a village from savage destruction, but also prevented the Wicked Witch from hunting down my workers."

"I should hope any Ozian wouldn't hesitate to do such things if it were within their abilities," Leyen replied. The Wizard nodded thoughtfully.

"Unfortunately news from Quadling Country tends to be sparse, so I do have a few questions for you," he admitted. Oz's ruler then proceeded to ask his guest about the details of her southern adventure. Leyen, in turn, passionately filled him in on the violent destruction Yellow Brick Road workers were responsible for. She was surprised at the Wizard's compassionate reaction. He seemed genuinely horrified, even going so far as to lay a hand over the blonde's when she began to tear up.

"I cannot begin to explain my regret for what you went through," Oscar told her. "Those men will be punished and the expansion of the Yellow Brick Road into Quadling Country will be halted immediately."

"Thank you," Leyen sighed, feeling as though a tremendous weight had suddenly dissipated.

"No, thank you for alerting me to this heinous crime," the Wizard contradicted. "You are a very brave young woman."

_Not nearly as brave as the one you're hunting down, _she thought. If Oz's ruler had chosen to prosecute quadlings instead of Animals it could just as easily be her living as a fugitive. Before Leyen could ponder this too long the Wizard rang a delicate, golden bell, assumedly summoning their meal.

"Hopefully you don't have such a taste for quadling fare that Gillikinese food seems repulsive," he said.

"Not at all," the blonde assured him. "I spent most of this year at Shiz University."

"Perhaps you're familiar with a colleague of mine," Oscar commented. "Miss Upland of the Upper Uplands?"

"Yes, Glinda and I were friends," Leyen reported. She could almost see gears turning in the Wizard's head.

"So you also must've known her roommate. Elphaba Thropp?"

"Yes." The young witch swallowed nervously.

"I see." Just then their food arrived, carried by a Monkey servant. Leyen sucked in an angry breath and averted her eyes. She'd known that the Wizard might have some Animals trapped in servitude, but that didn't make it any easier to think about.

As the blonde's food was set down she felt a furry hand subtly brush her arm. Startled Leyen glanced up into the familiar primate face of Chistery. His eyes had lost some of their lively joy to dimness, but her friend was still very much present. Leyen's eyes grew wide with shocked horror. In response the Monkey frowned pointedly, clearly a command to pretend as though nothing had happened.

Still the young witch couldn't help looking him over. A reddish jacket sagged over Chistery's gaunt frame, making him look all the more pitiful. Leyen stared questioningly at a pair of folded, leathery appendages emerging from the Monkey's back. "Chistery was one of the innocent Animals mutilated by the Wicked Witch's spell," Oscar explained upon noticing her interest. His false regret lit a fire in the young witch's stomach.

Leyen wanted so badly to sock the Wizard in his fraudulent smile and make him take back all the awfulness visited upon her friends. Only Nessa's words restrained her. _Promise me that you won't get yourself into foolish trouble with the Wizard. _

She gritted her teeth and forced a slightly twitchy grin. "That's awful."

"And it's exactly the reason I've called you here," Oscar announced. "Your services could be very helpful in preventing such an atrocity from occurring again." Leyen waved a tense hand for him to go on. "When Miss Upland graduates from Shiz she'll come to work here in the Emerald Palace making speeches, attending balls and giving citizens hope in this troubling time. However my advisors believe it would be equally helpful to have someone interacting with the public on a more personal level. They want someone who can travel from town to town gaining more loyalty from the people. If strong nationalism reaches Ozians in even the remote corners of the Vinkus and Quadling Country rebel Animals and the Wicked Witch will have less places to hide."

"You want _me_ to do this?"

"You've already demonstrated strong compassion and understanding for cultures quite different from your own," the Wizard observed. "Besides the letter informing me of your actions mentioned a talent in magic."

"I wouldn't call it a talent," Leyen retorted modestly.

"If you accept this job offer you could spend time studying sorcery here in the City while studying the peculiars of Munchkin Land and Vinkun culture," Oscar pointed out. "I'd see to it that you have a comfortable apartment and a large salary as well." Chistery was hovering beside the blonde's chair radiating waves of tension. If Leyen took this job with the Wizard she could keep an eye on him as well as Nessa while spying for Elphaba. It was perfect, but a small part of the young witch's heart longed to return to a simple, carefree life in Kwane with Kucharo and Iban.

"I accept."

I/

_Dear Fabala,_

_ Nessarose misses you, but she's fine. I'll stop in and visit her whenever possible. Glinda's ok too (since I know you're worried about her). She'll be accepting a position with the Wizard after graduation. Fiyero's managed to pull his grades together and will actually be finishing off the year with decent grades. Once school's over he's planning to join the Gale Force. _

_ If you've been following the papers you'll know I'm also accepting a job with our _wonderful_ ruler (I'm getting better at this whole sarcasm thing). The official title is Emerald City Emissary, but basically my job is to tell all of Oz how great the Wizard is and how awful you are. This leaves me in a fantastic position to gather useful information from both the territories and the City. I know you don't want me openly working with you, but I dearly hope you'll accept my help informing you of the goings on here in civilization. _

_ Hopefully this letter finds you safe. If my offer seems reasonable meet me at the western edge of Kumbrica's pass on the next full moon at midnight. _

_See you then your Wickedness,_

_The Good Witch of the South_

**In case anyone's confused this is not the end of this story; it's more of the end of Act 1 for Leyen's story (so we're halfway there..yay!)…sorry she didn't have an epic defying gravity moment…**


	20. Old Times

**In case anyone is confused this part of the story picks up several years later…exactly how many depends on how many years you personally think the span between Defying Gravity and Thank Goodness (intermission) lasts…if precise values differ slightly it shouldn't really matter**

_Years Later…_

Leyen Rhoda settled into a comfortable train compartment for her journey to Shiz. She was returning from a political trip to the Glikkus. The Wizard had suggested that all the emerald mines up there could serve as potential rebel bases and it'd suddenly become imperative that all miners be totally loyal to their ruler. Of course Leyen knew from her meetings with the Wicked Witch that his Ozness need not fear; no subversive Animal would be stupid enough to hide anywhere near Gillikin. They preferred untamed places where the Gale Force was loathe to follow. Places like the Vinkus, where Oz's Emerald City Emissary would be visiting after a week or two in civilization.

Though she should probably be getting her notes together for an upcoming conference with Elphaba the blonde couldn't help pulling out a thick book of traditional Vinkun words. If it didn't entail working for a corrupt dictator Leyen's job would be absolutely perfect. She enjoyed learning even the most tedious details of other cultures.

Western phrases galloped across the blonde's mind, beautiful in their own richly savage way. For some reason most Vinkun words sounded like guttural snarls to her, but that only made the language more interesting. Hours later the train rattled into a comfortingly familiar college town. Blocky brownstone buildings, dimmed to a smoky cinnamon in the sun's fading light, stood like long ago friends around Railway Square. Though Leyen had reservations at a roadhouse in town and a fast approaching visit with the Wicked Witch she couldn't resist roaming campus for awhile.

Memories rose from the freshly, fragrant grass to tug at the blonde's heartstrings. They were snapshots of a happier place at a simpler time when the Wizard was still wonderful enough to fix any problem. Leyen wasn't all too surprised when she found herself softly crying moments later. If only they could all come back to Shiz and start over.

/

In the yellowed light of a smoggy Gillikin sunset Elphaba landed atop Crage Hall's flat, pebbly roof. Leyen was already there, dressed in an outfit as familiar as it was odd. "Go ahead and laugh," the blonde prompted. "It _is _sort of ironic." Oz's green witch didn't need to be told again. She let loose a shrieking cackle, cutting apart what was left of her friend's dignity.

"It was the Wizard's idea," Leyen defended. "He thought it would be a nice way to show my opposition of the Wicked Witch."

"You know imitation is actually a form of flattery," Elphaba pointed out. The blonde shrugged and cast another embarrassed look at her garb. She wore a practical white dress complete with a snowy cape and matching conical hat. It was the Witch of the West's proverbial outfit recreated in pale, colorless fabric.

"Whatever the case we'd both better get used to it," Leyen sighed. "I won't get out of wearing this for a long time. Oscar really likes my new look."

"You know I hate it when you call him that," Elphaba hissed.

"Sorry," the blonde apologized. "_The Wizard_ really likes my new look." Her green friend nodded in blunt approval before moving on to business.

"Do you have any locations for me?" Leyen nodded and offered a leather bound packet of parchment.

"The most urgent case is probably in Munchkin Land," she explained. "Whenever I visit Nessarose there are more and more farmers relying on Animals for slave labor."

"How is my sister by the way?" Elphaba queried, trying hard to mask her concern.

"She's fine," the blonde replied. "Prim like normal and stiff as a rod whenever there's important company around, but still very much herself. She misses you though, even if that stubborn girl refuses to admit it." There was such fondness in Leyen's voice that the green woman couldn't help smiling. "Boq's family fell upon hard times so he's working at Colwen Grounds now."

"What about my father? Is he aware of the mistreatment of Animals?"

"I didn't exactly spy on the Governor when I was visiting Nessa." The dark stillness of night's coming ate at their conversation.

"I greatly appreciate your help," Elphaba thanked her informant. She turned to go in a whirl of sweeping, midnight robes.

"Come on Fabala, don't leave right away," Leyen insisted. "I'm sure you don't get much time to chat when you're on the run."

"Conversation isn't high on a fugitive's list of priorities," the witch growled, anxious to be on her way.

"But food is," the blonde pressed as she held out a burlap sack full of provisions. "And I won't give you these supplies until you take a break and talk a little."

"You're such an adamant little prankster," Elphaba chuckled.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"It's as close to a 'yes' as you're gonna get."

/

An hour later two witches sat with their legs dangling over the dorm roof's edge. One was a glowing smudge of white, the other a sharp prick of shadow. They'd spoken of everything from past friends to present worries. Leyen told Elphaba about Glinda and Fiyero while Elphaba told Leyen about her need to find another hiding place for Animal refugees. "I'm going to Quadling Country soon," the blonde said. "There are some villages there that I could talk into helping."

"That would be wonderful." Stillness. "Leyen do you ever think about dying?"

"You mean suicide?"

"No, just what happens after death. Afterlife and all that."

"Sometimes," Leyen murmured. "There are people waiting in the next life that I'd very much like to see."

"Do you truly believe there's something after this?"

"Absolutely."

"I wish I shared your confidence."

"Oh yeah. Glinda told me about your insistence on not having a soul." The blonde witch looked at her friend sadly. "How can you really believe that?"

"What proof have I of a soul?"

"Do you want the short list or the long?" Leyen chuckled lightly. Elphaba arched an eyebrow in obvious confusion. "Well according to Gillikinese dictionaries a soul is said to be the principle of life, emotion, sentiment, and morality. If you want the Munchkin Land definition a soul is the noble warmth of feeling, spirit, or courage. I've yet to read an officially published Vinkun on Quadling book on the subject but I'd assume they would agree." The blonde shifted closer to her doubtful green companion. "Now, Miss Thropp, would you like to tell me which of these soul related traits you lack?"

For the first time in an awfully long time the Wicked Witch of the West couldn't think of even one thing to say.

/

When she made camp in the Great Gillikin Forest Elphaba reached into Leyen's sack for something to eat. Surprisingly her rough, bony hands came upon a balled up sheet of parchment among the apples and cheese. Midnight had recently closed its gauzy, black curtains across the sky, so she chanted a quick illumination spell. Cupping the orb of light in her palm Elphaba scanned Leyen's gift. It looked to be torn from some musty book and bore a list of traditional Vinkun words converted into common Ozian. Someone, probably the witch's blonde informant, had underlined a particular section in ink.

_Fae__: Once used to name a green skinned fairy fabled to guard the wilderness of the Great Kells. Now it can be roughly translated to mean 'little green beauty', 'dear one', or 'emerald guardian'. In the modern Vinkus it is sometimes used as a romantic nickname. _

Elphaba swallowed thickly as her heart leapt about. Why did Leyen consistently drop reminders of her old life into this necessary isolation? Every month there was _something_ of sentimental value mixed in with the notes. Pictures of Glinda and Fiyero at some ball in the Emerald City, a sketch Nessarose had drawn of Colwen Grounds in springtime, even those cheesy Lurlinemas cards Boq insisted on sending out every year. Some days the green woman cursed her friend for these painful time capsules and others she fervently thanked the blonde for reminding her that she hadn't always been a Wicked Witch.

Today Elphaba wasn't sure what to think of Leyen's latest offering.

/

Chistery was awakened from a light slumber by someone calling for him. Stretching awkwardly he hobbled towards the door of his cell. Oscar Diggs could call it 'a furnished room in the servant's quarters' all he wanted, but the metal rods barring each window begged to differ.

"Chiz it's me," Leyen's familiar voice whispered from the hallway just outside. Two sheets of unmarked parchment and a quill rolled beneath the door. Chistery eagerly leapt for his friend's gifts and scribbled out a message.

_Hey Yenlay. What's happened in the outside world since the last time we talked?_

"Not much," Leyen admitted quietly upon reading the primate's message. "Except that the Wizard decided to paint the Emerald City yellow and the Yellow Brick Road green."

_Haha. Very funny. _

"You don't believe me?" the blonde scoffed.

_No, no I don't. _

"You can't see me through the door, but I'm pouting right now." Chistery's grin, coaxed out of hiding by his friend's humor, was suddenly erased by serious thoughts.

_Have you found a way to get my family and I out of here?_

"No," Leyen sighed dejectedly. "Madame Morrible keeps your room sealed with magic and only Oscar knows how to work the mechanism that holds your family."

_The Wizard's been talking about moving me in with my family, as a reward for being such a good little servant. Would that make things easier?_

"It would make escaping simpler if we only had to open one prison," the blonde replied. "But that doesn't change the fact that I can't figure out Oscar's equipment."

_Could Elphaba do it? _Leyen didn't answer for several chilly eternities.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But she's in so much danger as it is. I don't want to ask her to fly into the heart of enemy territory for Animals whose lives aren't threatened."

_Why?_

"Because I know she'll do it," Leyen explained, "and if the Wizard catches her it's all over." Chistery immediately felt guilty for even requesting such a thing. He shouldn't selfishly ask for Elphaba's help when other Animals were so much worse off. "So," the good witch began awkwardly, "do you have any news for me?"

_The Wizard is sure that Elphaba's creating an army of escaped Animals in the Vinkus. He's trying to convince the King and Queen of the Arjiki to allow a battalion of soldiers into their lands._

"That's good news," Leyen exclaimed quietly. "All Animal refugee camps are in land controlled by the Scrow right now." Approaching footsteps rumbled through the door. "I've got to go Chiz," the blonde muttered. "Sorry." Then, in a rustling flurry of skirts, she'd left Chistery to his stifling isolation once more.

**Please don't be mad at me for the slowness of this chapter...I needed to set things up for 'Act 2'…besides, if Leyen's story was as exciting as Elphaba's it wouldn't have been forgotten now would it? …but don't worry; things will pick up again**


	21. A Gossipy Lunch

**Wow no reviews for the last chapter and only two for the chapter before it…ouch…hopefully some people are reading and just choosing not to review…**

**AN IMPORTANT NOTE ON LEYEN'S OUTFIT: As you may have already guessed I based Leyen's appearance off the witch whispering in Elphaba's ear on the Wicked icon playbill design thingie…now I know that witch is supposed to be Glinda but Glinda never wears a white witch hat or a white gown at. Plus Glinda's hair isn't white and most people agree that her eyes are blue not bright green (I also know that the green in Glinda's eye on the playbill is supposed to be symbolic for the fact that everyone has inner wickedness but still). Also the fact that the mystery witch on the playbill is whispering in Elphaba's ear gave me the idea to have Leyen be Elphaba's spy/informant…sorry for the rant; I thought some of you might find this interesting…or not…**

_Dearest Leyen,_

_ Fiyero and I heard that you were in the Emerald City for a few days and wanted to invite you to join us for lunch tomorrow. We'll be eating at the twelfth hour of the morning at the Viridian Cafe. It's right across the street from the Emerald Palace's front gate. I would've extended this invitation in person but you're an annoyifyingly hard person to find. Perhaps when we see each other you can tell me where you spend all our time. It's been far too long since I've spoken with you. _

_Please come,_

_Glinda the Good (of the Upper Uplands)_

/

Leyen was the slightest bit wary as she stepped into the Viridian Cafe. Though the blonde's unusually light hair color and vivid eyes made her an easily recognizable figure she wasn't as well liked in the City as Glinda. People found Leyen odd for spending her time with perceived 'savages' in the Vinkus and Quadling Country. They didn't exactly _dis_like their Emissary, but citizens preferred to observe her from afar, rather than squealing their affections and asking questions wherever she went. In response Leyen moved through the City quietly, speaking only out of absolute necessity. In truth the Emerald City, with its bustling people and constant din, always set the country girl on edge.

The Viridian Cafe was a small but wealthy little establishment as evidenced by its fine, granite floor tiles and dazzling, green window glass. Even on such a clean, bright morning there was a subdued quality to the emerald tinted air. Solemn quoxwood tables only added to this hushed, stately atmosphere.

"Leyen!" Glinda cried from her place at a velvety corner booth. "Over here!" Older patrons grumbled at the high pitched, glittery interruption to their somber breakfast. Blushing a little at her unruly summons the Good Witch of the South strode briskly to Glinda's table.

"I haven't seen you in forever," the bubbly woman exclaimed, quieter now.

"It has been a long time," Leyen agreed as she took a seat. "Where's Fiyero?"

"He'll be here soon," Glinda explained with a wave of her hand. She was wearing a gauzy, lime colored dress layered with dazzling sequins. It fit the blonde in such a girlish fashion that she could've been a Shizite. Leyen, on the other hand, had dressed in a much more conventional jade gown with short sleeves and a ruffled bodice. "So," Glinda began brightly. "What've you been up to lately?"

"Mostly studying," Leyen admitted sheepishly. "I'm brushing up on some basic Vinkun customs; the Wizard's paranoid that westerners are harboring…" She trailed off when her companion's eager face deteriorated into sadness. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok," Glinda insisted, blinking rapidly. "I just miss her _so_ much." For a long moment the two women sat in companionable silence.

"It's hard to hear all the nasty rumors they tell in the City isn't it?" Leyen asked quietly. Her friend nodded without making eye contact and the Good Witch of the South smiled sadly at a fond memory. "Do you remember when you decided to have a spa day with Elphaba, Nessa, and I?"

"Yeah," Glinda chuckled weakly. "It was OzDay wasn't it?"

"Uh huh," Leyen confirmed. "Nessarose screamed when you answered the door in that green moisturizer."

"I remember," the good witch snickered. "You gave Elphaba that extra eye that never closes."

"And then she scowled so much that the green on her face started peeling off," Leyen giggled. It was nice to relive old times, if only for a moment. Luckily Fiyero joined his friends before the regret of remembering Elphaba could settle in.

"Hey Leyen," he greeted cheerfully. "It's nice to finally see you again."

"It's nice to see you too," she replied. "How're things with the Gale Force."

"Frustrating as always," the Winkie complained good naturedly, though there was something dark and determined flickering in his gaze. "Fae keeps giving me the slip." Glinda shot her supposed boyfriend a sharp look.

"Keep your voice down when you talk like that," she hissed.

"Sorry," Fiyero apologized. He turned suddenly to Leyen. "Have you heard any news of Elphaba in the territories?"

"Nope," the blonde responded, swallowing thickly. She was never good at lying. "Fabala just doesn't want to be found."

"I hope she's all right," Glinda murmured with such guilt that Leyen almost told her the truth.

"This is Fabala we're talking about," she exclaimed instead. "That girl is much too wily to get herself hurt." There must've been something off in the southern witch's tone, because she suddenly found Glinda's gaze fixed curiously on her.

/

Harbiel Dian couldn't keep a dazzling grin off his face. The young reporter hadn't expected to hear anything of use when he seated himself one booth down from Glinda the Good. It was common knowledge that the Emerald Palace's beautiful, blonde lady rarely spoke of anything besides dancing and dresses, but today a few shreds of knowledge were mixed in. Of course Harbiel was trying to be inconspicuous so he didn't hear everything perfectly.

"I remember," the good witch was saying. From her tone it sounded as though she was making fun of someone. "You saw Elphaba with that eye that never closes." _Elphaba_. Where had Harbiel heard that name before? A second later it came to him. Last week he'd published an article about Governor Thropp's relationship to the Wicked Witch. Her name, the young reporter had learned from hours of research, was Elphaba Thropp. Lady Glinda was telling stories about the _Wicked Witch of the West_.

"…she scowled so much that the green on her face started to peel off," Leyen Rhoda, the Emerald City's mysterious Emissary, was saying. According to the more scandelacious newspapers both she and Glinda had attended Shiz University with the Wicked Witch. Perhaps that was how they knew of the green woman's extra eye and ability to shed her skin.

Harbiel quickly scribbled some observations onto his notepad, already planning out a new story. This would make the front page.

/

"I really should be going," Leyen regretfully told her companions. "I've got a meeting with the Wizard soon."

"It's been great to see you again," Glinda responded earnestly. "We should hang out more often when you're in the City."

"That would be wonderful," the southern witch agreed, standing. She left some coins for her coffee on the table before departing. Glinda caught her right outside the door.

"I forgot to give you this," she explained with an unexpectedly melancholy smile. The blonde offered a brown, paper bag. "Open it when you get home."

"Ok," Leyen agreed in confusion. She turned, only to be stopped again.

"If you should see her," Glinda said heartbreakingly, "tell her I miss her still." Then the blonde disappeared back into the cafe.

/

Leyen was practically humming with curiosity when she finally reached her suite. As soon as the door was closed she tore apart Glinda's offering. Wreathed in a nest of crinkly, brown paper was a bottle. It was oddly shaped and translucently green with the dried remnants of some thick liquid congealed into every crack.

A fresh, white piece of paper curled around the neck. It read; _to Elphie_.

Leyen's jaw dropped. Somehow, through whatever unexplainable connection best friends have, Glinda knew. She knew that Leyen was lying, and she had accepted that necessary secrecy for a chance at contact with Elphaba.

The good witch knew what she'd put in the green girl's bag of provisions this month.

**So with the short appearance of Harbiel this story officially surpasses the 'Good' series in terms of most OCs…**

**Now you know how the rumors were spread about Elphaba having an 'extra eye' and 'shedding her skin'**

**Also I've always wondered how Elphaba had her little green bottle to leave behind with her hat when she 'melted'…unless she risked sneaking back to Shiz for it (which is highly unlikely) or she brought it to the Emerald City (which I don't think she'd do; why risk losing something so important?) then it would be back in her dorm when she defied gravity**

**And yes, I know that Glinda's parting words for Leyen were from the book…I just found that particular line so very heartbreaking when reading McGuire's novel that I **_**had**_** to use it here; even if the context is totally different**

**SORRY FOR THE SLOWNESS; LEYEN'S ADVENTURE STARTS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER**

**Please review!...**


	22. Coming Home

Kucharo was not in a good mood when he retreated to his clearing. Iban had started talking about _girls_ again. It wasn't that Kwane was in short supply of attractive females; quite the opposite. Kucharo, however, didn't know how to explain to his father that he found none of the young quadling women here interesting. He needed a girl that wasn't shackled by tradition; a girl that might surprise him every once in a while.

With a groan Kucharo swung onto the stage. He still used it for the trickster experiments of old whenever the world became particularly tiresome. His boots made hollow thumping sounds, like the welcoming chortles of an old friend.

Then, abruptly, the young quadling felt a change in the wood beneath his feet. Kucharo looked down and, with the mechanical clank of gears shifting, suddenly found himself falling. Mud splattered as a very surprised man landed beneath the rotting beams of his wooden platform.

"When I say 'I'll get you back for this' I mean it," chuckled an oddly familiar voice, "even if it takes several years." Kucharo blinked in utter shock. Did that voice belong to…? No. It couldn't be.

But it was.

Leyen's face appeared above her old friend, framed in the square of an open trapdoor. "Well hello there Princess," Kucharo laughed, feeling oddly giddy. The quadling struggled to his feet and took Leyen's offered hand. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"For what?" the blonde questioned.

"This." Kucharo proceeded to yank forcefully on his friend's arm, pulling her through the trapdoor. She landed on top of him with a thwack, giggling hysterically.

"You haven't changed a bit."

/

"Princess Locasta!" Iban cried, sweeping Leyen into a breathless hug. Even after years apart there was no awkwardness between them.

"It's nice to see you too," the blonde squeaked. "But my name is Leyen in case you forgot."

"How could we?" Iban laughed. "You're a legend."

"Please tell me you're joking," Leyen exclaimed.

"Nope," Kucharo informed her. "The story of Sorceress Yenlay is a campfire favorite."

"I should kill you," the blonde hissed teasingly. Her dazzling smile gave evidence to the fact that she was secretly pleased with all this.

"How long will you be staying?" Iban wondered.

"As long as I can get away with," Leyen replied. "His Ozness sent me here after I convinced him that I would be more helpful in Quadling Country than the Vinkus."

"So you're here to garner support for him?" Kucharo asked with poorly disguised abhorrence.

"That's the cover story," Leyen explained. "But in reality Fabala requested that I find quadling villages willing to shelter rebel Animals."

"You'll have plenty of volunteers in the deep swamp or the Quadling Kells," Iban told her. "No Gillikinese army could get to them."

"But most Animals would have a hard time too," the blonde pointed out. "That's why I need villages close enough to the Yellow Brick Road to be convenient, but small enough to be unnoticeable."

"Like Kwane." There was nothing challenging or upset about Iban's tone, but Leyen felt slightly defensive anyway.

"I would never ask you to take a risk like that," she insisted. "Please don't think I'm here to manipulate you into some dangerous plot." Kucharo laughed outright at her worried expression.

"Yenlay we'd never suspect you of something like that," Iban chuckled. "I was simply pointing out that Kwane meets your specifications. And we'd love to help; Oz knows you've risked much more for us."

"Enough talk about politics," Kucharo interrupted, grinning at Leyen again. "Kwane's hero has returned; I do believe a banquet is in order."

/

Leyen was admittedly pleased to find that her hut was still empty after years away. Apparently village children took turns re-thatching the roof every month or so in case the fabled Princess Locasta returned. Quagmire's meadow was in equally good condition, much to the delight of the blonde's aging stallion.

"I feel bad knowing you've missed me this much," Leyen told Kucharo when she emerged from her hut. "I thought you'd just go back to life as usual and eventually forget." She was now wearing a traditional quadling dress made from tightly woven mudreeds.

"You don't seem to understand exactly how indebted Kwane is to you," Kucharo explained, serious for once. "We owe you our home and our lives." He gave her a moment to respond before continuing. "And let me just say that you look ravishing in brown."

The young man received an elbow in the gut for that.

/

"Isn't it a little rude to sneak away from a banquet held in your honor?" Leyen demanded as she was towed into the swampy woods.

"This isn't some Gillikinese ball," Kucharo sniffed. "It's a bonfire banquet and you spent a good hour greeting everyone in the village."

"Iban won't be mad?" The young quadling couldn't keep a grin from sharpening his features. Iban would probably be ecstatic if he knew his son was sneaking into the woods with a girl. Not that he had the intention of doing anything vaguely romantic with Leyen; they were just tired of hanging around an obnoxiously social party.

"My father won't care in the slightest," Kucharo assured his partner in crime. "Now, it's time for you to show me how that trapdoor works."

"Why in Oz would I give away my secret?" Leyen gasped in mock horror. "It took me two hours to set that thing up."

"I'm more interested in how you learned to make it," the young quadling admitted.

"The Emerald Palace Library has books on even the most obscure subjects," she responded with a shrug. By now they'd reached the moon swathed clearing. It was nearly silent apart the nightly thrum of animal life. "Did you at least bring a lamp?" Leyen muttered as she gestured to the bundle tucked beneath Kucharo's arm.

"No," he replied, unrolling a jug of root ale and two mugs. The blonde cast her friend a disapproving glance.

"So how am I supposed to explain complicated mechanics to you in the dark?" Leyen queried challengingly.

"I guess you won't," Kucharo retorted, pouring bitter liquid into the cups. His partner in crime huffed loudly before muttering some sort of spell. Her words wisped into the dark, balmy air like some sort of disembodied, swamp spirit.

Moments later a tiny, golden light appeared at Leyen's shoulder. "Sorry I can't make it bigger," she sighed. "My magic is far from potent." The quadling waved this observation aside.

"You're much too modest," he decided, offering an earthenware mug.

"You're not modest enough," Leyen countered, accepting it.

"Good point." Kucharo took a long swig of his drink. The blonde imitated him tentatively. She didn't cough this time. "So you've learned to handle alcohol?"

"It's learn or be eternally thirsty at Emerald City balls," Leyen explained. "Every bowl of punch is spiked with liquor far more potent than this primitive mixture." Something flashed across the quadling's face when she said the word 'primitive'.

"I suppose we _are_ below your standards," Kucharo growled gruffly.

"Don't be so sensitive," the blonde chastened. "You of all people should know that I'd prefer a life in the swamps."

"That's rather hard to believe," he joked, trying to cover an underlying sense of urgent curiosity.

"Why?"

"I've spent my whole life wanting to get away from here," Kucharo groaned. "It's quite probable that the world is equally treacherous everywhere, but I'd rather be somewhere less dull. Somewhere interesting."

"You wouldn't last a week in the Emerald City," Leyen hissed seriously. "It's a bed of vipers. My favorite jobs are those spent away from the height of civilization."

"Vipers?" The quadling sounded incredulous.

"Yes," she cried. "In the big city everyone's so busy with whatever they're doing that they don't care about anyone else. Or if they do, it's for some traitorous, self serving reason. There's no sense of familiarity; no sense of community or safety. I hate it."

"Civilization can't be that bad," Kucharo insisted.

"It probably isn't," the blonde huffed. "But I'm too frightened when I get there to extend myself enough to learn."

"You? Frightened?"

"Oh stop your teasing," Leyen grumbled good naturedly as she took another sip of root ale.

"You like it," Kucharo taunted, forwardly invading her personal space.

"Maybe." His blonde friend stepped away evasively. The quadling freighted offense.

"You wound me."

"Good."

"Ouch. Someone's feisty today."

"Tonight actually."

"Well that changes things," Kucharo leered. His eyes glinted with characteristic mischief.

"You are such a…" Leyen couldn't find an appropriate word.

"Charmer?"

"Not exactly."

"Handsome warrior?"

"Yeah right."

"What then?"

"I was thinking slime eel." He tackled her onto the loamy forest floor while snickering maniacally.

"You'll regret that." Leyen responded by smearing decomposed, leaf debris into his hair. With a great deal of effort the blonde wriggled out from beneath her attacker. Kucharo, face dirty and hair mussed into a bird nest, beamed up at Leyen from the ground.

**Questions? Comments? Suggestions?**

**I'm not particularly good at writing romantic relationships (yes; I know saying that is kind of a spoiler, but if you haven't realized the chemistry between Kucharo and Leyen you need to get your eyes checked) so you guys have got to let me know if my portrayal if doing well or falling flat. Examples (ex. it was good when….or it just didn't seem very real when…) are most helpful.**


	23. Fireflies

**Sorry it's been awhile. In the coming week I will be going to Juarez (which is in Mexico for those of you who are geographically challenged like me) with my church youth group to build a house for a needy family. There will be little to no time for me to write so don't expect any updates…**

**The reason I've even neglected this story for so long is because I'm trying to finish 'Greenies' and 'The Emerald Rose' before I leave…then this will be the only fan fiction I work on for a long stretch…at least until I start 'Goodness Knows'…**

The next day most of Kucharo and Leyen's childish excitement had worn off. They were adults after all, and last night's playfulness couldn't be allowed to last very long. Not in a world like this.

"I'm going to Rodmilla this afternoon," the blonde informed Iban over a meal of gritty reed bread. "Hopefully they will be willing to harbor Animals."

"There are already two Crocodiles and an Otter living there," the older quadling responded. "Besides, Rodmilla has been very fruitful this year; their storehouses are full. They won't mind a few more mouths to feed."

"Could I come with you?" Kucharo asked.

"I'm perfectly capable of traveling to a nearby village by myself," Leyen chuckled.

"I believe my son was more interested in an opportunity to learn about surrounding villages," Iban intervened smoothly. "He will soon have to step up as a leader in this village. Knowledge would do him good." The elder cast Kucharo a wink, which he stubbornly ignored.

"Alright then," Leyen agreed. "If it's that important; I just didn't want to be a burden on Kwane's…"

"Princess you will never be a burden to this village," Kucharo assured her, "and suggesting that you are is getting a little repetitive."

"Fine," she responded, sulkily embarrassed. "We leave for Rodmilla at noon."

/

"Someday I'm gonna teach you how to properly ride a horse," Leyen informed Kucharo. He was seated behind her in Quagmire's ample saddle and the quadling's constant attempts to keep his balance were making it a rather uncomfortable journey.

"It's not my fault," he defended. As the stallion stepped over another fallen tree Kucharo lurched wildly and, in a mild fit of frustration, Leyen reached a hand back to loop the quadling's arms around her middle.

"There," she huffed. "Better?"

"Much," Kucharo replied. Having finally found a solution the blonde spurred Quagmire into a trot. "I don't think I've ever seen you quite that irritated," her companion observed.

"Sorry," Leyen murmured. "I'm just a little uneasy about this recruiting thing. Fabala's cause is noble but I _hate_ asking people I don't know to put their families in danger."

"There's nothing wrong with extending an opportunity to help," Kucharo reassured her. "You aren't forcing anyone to harbor Animals; if it's their choice you are not to blame."

"But if something happens am I responsible for giving them that choice in the first place?" From her tone it was clear that the blonde had been mulling this over for some time.

"No, I don't think it is," Kucharo answered. He gave Leyen's stomach a gentle squeeze. Quagmire's hooves pounded out a steady beat on the moist moss over which they traveled. It was a relaxing sound, like the thrum of a damp heartbeat.

"Why did Iban give you that wink at breakfast," Leyen queried after several serene moments. Kucharo winced.

"You saw that?"

"He's not very good at subtly," the blonde hinted. She waited for her friend to respond until it became clear that he didn't plan to. "Well?"

"I'm sure you already know that most quadlings marry young," Kucharo began reluctantly. He felt Leyen nod against him and continued. "In Kwane the tradition goes even farther. There's usually only a two or three week period between falling in love and getting engaged. The time between engagement and marriage is even shorter."

"So Iban's concerned because you haven't hooked up with anyone yet?" Leyen snickered.

"Yes," the young quadling groaned. "He's tried setting me up with every eligible girl in the village."

"Including me," Leyen realized.

"Apparently," Kucharo muttered. Luckily Rodmilla came into view before his embarrassment had time to become unbearable.

/

It turned out that most quadling villages were quite amiable towards Leyen's cause. Many already welcomed local Animals who had been cast out of Qhoyre. The blonde carefully recorded everything for her next meeting with Elphaba. She also fired off letters to the Emerald City once a week assuring Oscar of how much good her visit was doing. Leyen named the villages willing to or already harboring Animals as ones now loyal to the Wizard. It would hopefully keep them free of suspicion.

Thing were going marvelously and the blonde was nearly ecstatic. Kucharo, though he tried very hard to hide it, was also optimistic about her mission. Iban, due to his close observation of the two _friends_, was optimistic about another subject. It was because of this near certainty that he smiled knowingly when they went for a casual walk into the swamp forest.

"How much longer will you be staying in Kwane?" Kucharo wondered warily.

"The Wizard's starting to get antsy for me to return," Leyen admitted. They were walking only an inch apart and she couldn't deny that it would feel good to take his hand. Of course that was a silly thought; Aro was practically her brother.

"Maybe I should come to the Emerald City with you," the young quadling mused. He sent a glance at Leyen to gauge her reaction. It was simultaneously hopeful and muddled. "I mean, I'd like to help with what you and Elphaba are doing."

"Oh." They were approaching one of the rare, fast flowing rivers in Quadling Country. It slowed to a muddy, clogged pace two or three miles downstream, but here the water glittered with clarity. Someone had built an arching footbridge, complete with latticework sides, over the frothing current. Leyen could see why; it was an absolutely beautiful location. Fireflies hung in the gathering night like magicked candle flames.

"Wow," the blonde breathed. "How long do you think this has been here?"

"Years," Kucharo replied. "I happened upon it when I was thirteen."

"It's in amazing condition," Leyen observed, moving to run her hands over the smooth wood.

"I think it's enchanted to stay in good shape," the young quadling explained. "Iban believes that Princess Locasta left this bridge when she came to Quadling Country decades ago."

"That's silly." Still Leyen scrutinized the knotted bogwood, as if expecting to find Princess Locasta's initials embedded in the grains. "So, any luck appeasing your father?" the blonde teased, trying to keep jealously from tainting her playful tone. It was normal to be protective of a close friend's attention, right?

"Nope," Kucharo was quick to answer. He settled comfortably against the bridge's waist-high railing. Leyen leaned beside him.

"What?" she chuckled. "Are none of the girls here good enough for you?"

"Yeah, I'm just above them all," the young quadling joked.

"I see," Leyen giggled. A shadow rippled across their casual mood; the sun had set. Suddenly the electric glow of the fireflies was no longer subdued by tatters of sunlight. Their bright, thrilling aura charged the air around Leyen and Kucharo. Every sense and movement felt oddly heightened.

"They sure are pretty," the blonde observed. There was no need to explain what she was talking about. Kucharo nodded thoughtfully. Awkwardness drowned the comment rising in his throat. Swallowing hard the young quadling tried again.

"Yenlay when you left Kwane years ago…" He took a shuddering breath to steady his unexpectedly tenuous control. "You didn't say goodbye to me. I was in the woods waiting, thinking you'd come and find me but…but you never did. And all this time I've been wondering; why?"

Leyen turned so she was facing him straight on. "I knew I might not come back."

"So?"

"I didn't want my last memory of you to be an awful goodbye. I wanted to remember you laughing and teasing me."

"You said goodbye to Iban," Kucharo pointed out.

"It was hard enough saying farewell to him," the blonde whispered. "I didn't think I could handle the heartbreak of seeing you for the last time." She was staring at the ground. It seemed like several dragging eternities before Kucharo gently lifted her chin.

Their eyes met and Leyen's chest filled with softly burning flames. A glowingly poignant realization washed over her and, before the discovery could even be processed, she surged upwards to kiss Kucharo.

Like one of the young quadling's combustible concoctions the reaction was immediate and fiery. Kucharo pulled the blonde flush against him as her hands coiled in his hair. Leyen gasped and unconsciously deepened the all consuming kiss. She felt the world shattering into pieces as her own body slowly melted. The movement of their lips was building; getting agonizingly hotter second by second.

Then they broke apart. Leyen leaned heavily against Kucharo to keep from collapsing. Both parties were gasping for air they hadn't needed moments ago. The young quadling, however, wasn't quite finished. He gently spun Leyen so she was leaning against one of the bridge's supports and trailed tender kisses down her neck. The blonde moaned quietly before pushing him gently away.

"I don't think even Iban would be happy if we returned covered in forest debris," Leyen hinted breathlessly. Kucharo felt heat rising in his cheeks at her comment.

"Princess I wasn't planning to…I mean…I wouldn't…"

"I know," the blonde replied with a mild grin. She leaned in for a much softer, sweeter kiss. When they parted Leyen giddily threaded her fingers with Kucharo's. It felt so natural; as though only absurd blindness had kept them from realizing how well they fit together.

**Did it bother anyone that I chose a clichéd footbridge location? I blame that on the fact that I was listening to 'Til There Was You' at the time I wrote this :)**

**Again; how did I do with the romance? I tried but typically that hasn't been my strongest genre**


	24. A Few Incentives

**I'm leaving for a two week trip to Africa (yay!) on Thursday so it will be awhile until I update again…sorry :(**

The transition from friends to a couple wasn't at all awkward for Leyen and Kucharo. It seemed totally natural; like breathing. They'd practically been joined at the hip before their kiss anyway. Iban was predictably ecstatic, as was the rest of Kwane. Secrets didn't last long in small villages.

"I quite like being sweethearts," Kucharo announced one night when they were cuddled together in the boggy forest. "It's quite convenient; no one gets irritated when we disappear anymore."

"That's clearly your only incentive," Leyen chuckled as she nuzzled closer.

"Well I could think of a_ few_ more," the quadling admitted, grinning.

"Only a few?" She pressed her nose into his neck.

"Maybe a dozen or so."

"A _dozen_?" Leyen feigned offense.

"Or a couple hundred."

"That's better." Kucharo's gentle laughter shook through them like a wave of warm water. A nest of soft, leafy foliage rustled around the couple as they lay together; side by side looking at the stars. In Quadling Country, without even a smear of light to mar them, the heavens were breathtaking. "Do you still believe that the world has no good in it?" Leyen wondered.

"No," the quadling sighed, tightening his arms around her. "Not really."

"What changed your mind?"

"A lot of things," Kucharo shrugged. "Mostly you."

"What did I do?"

"Enduring horrific things never crippled your ability to see good in the world."

"That's not totally true…" Leyen began.

"Well it was true enough to change my mind," Kucharo interrupted.

"Are you just saying that to make me feel good?"

"Nope." The blonde didn't even try to hide her thrilled, radiant smile at this pronouncement. "You know you look rather adorable right now," Kucharo observed cheekily.

"Really?" Leyen fluttered her eyelashes in what she supposed was a flirty fashion. The quadling, who had slightly more experience, found this endearing rather than sultry. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"You are excruciatingly cute right now." The blonde scowled.

"Cute wasn't exactly what I was going for," Leyen grumbled. She pulled herself flush against him and leaned in so their noses were brushing. "Is this cute?"

"Maybe." Kucharo had played this game many times before. The blonde swept her lips quickly over his crimson cheek.

"What about this?"

"Possibly." A quick kiss struck the quadling's chin.

"This?"

"Perhaps." Leyen smirked and brought her lips down on Kucharo's. All swiftness left the blonde as she sank into the kiss. It was slow and thorough; like magma gradually searing through a wall of stone. "That definitely wasn't cute," Kucharo breathed when they pulled apart.

"Good," Leyen replied tersely, laying back to watch the stars again. The quadling thought he might have offended her until she grinned. Leyen's grins were more heartfelt than any Kucharo had ever seen. They held nothing back; splitting her face with unadulterated brilliance. However, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile was gone; sucked back into her heart by some vortex of negative emotion.

"What's wrong?" Kucharo rolled over to face the blonde.

"The Wizard wants me to return soon. I stayed here much longer than was proper; his letters are getting more and more adamant about my return."

"Take me with you then."

"That's just it," Leyen moaned. "I can't. Maybe it would've been possible when I first came here, but people are probably getting suspicious of me for staying in Quadling Country so long. Bringing you back with me would only fan the flames and put us both in danger."

"Danger? You think they'd hurt you?"

"The Wizard wouldn't. For all his tyranny he's really nothing more than a misguided old man. Madame Morrible on the other hand…" The blonde trailed off with a disgusted shudder. "I wouldn't put anything past that snake when she's angry."

"If there's danger you can't go back alone."

"Yes I can," Leyen argued. "Elphaba's keeping a close eye on the Emerald City; she'll know if I'm in danger." She was lying; the green girl was much too busy to keep tabs on all her allies.

"You'll come back soon though, won't you?" Now that the pressing issue of the blonde's departure was safely behind them Leyen quickly focused on another of her concerns.

"I don't know," she teased, eyes glittering. "I might need an incentive."

"What sort of incentive?" Kucharo queried, though he already knew. They'd played _this_ game before too.

"Aro we've been together for nearly a month," Leyen reminded tonelessly. "That far surpasses the usual quadling window for courting."

"So?" The blonde sighed and fluttered her conspicuously bare hand over his chest.

"Iban's getting impatient."

"Sounds like he's not the only one." There was absolutely no playfulness in Kucharo's voice.

"Aro we're in the midst of a revolution," Leyen exclaimed. "Now is not the time to take anything for granted."

"I know." He turned back to the stars.

"And?"

"And you're just gonna have to be patient." At this the blonde huffed to her feet in a whirlwind of agitated foliage.

"I don't think you understand how little time we might have," Leyen whispered sharply. "I might never come back. What if you were right and the world deals out its worst?"

"Yenlay please just bear with me for now," Kucharo begged. It was odd to hear him so humble and the unexpectedly soft tone doused Leyen's spark of irritation.

"Ok," she relented. "But you'd better start weaving that wedding bracelet while I'm gone." She smiled in a resigned, lopsided fashion.

/

Leaving was awful. Leyen and Kucharo's goodbye kiss, which lasted so long that witnesses began to clear their throats, tasted of bittersweet saltwater. The blonde didn't truly stem the flow of tears until her carriage was approaching civilization again. She used a simple spell to freshen up before heading into the Emerald Palace.

Madame Morrible was lurking outside Leyen's suite like a coiled serpent waiting in ambush. "It's good to see you dearie," the press secretary gushed. She enfolded her blonde underling in a synthetic, velvety hug.

"The same to you Madame," Leyen responded. "I've been away for much too long. It's good to be home." Even after internally rehearsing them all day the words sounded false.

"I'm sorry to inform you that your room isn't available at present," Morrible murmured remorsefully. "A renovation project was recently undertaken in this wing; you've been moved to another suite for the time being." For all that Leyen had endured she still wasn't good at detecting lies. Her trusting nature fervently wanted to believe that everyone was telling the truth all the time. She easily disliked Madame Morrible when the woman was in a violently cruel mood, but if the headmistress put up a facade of friendly cheerfulness Leyen had trouble seeing through it.

"That's unfortunate," the blonde replied. "Thank you for alerting me."

"It's no trouble dearie," Madame Morrible insisted, waving off her thanks. "Your new rooms are this way." They moved briskly through the lavish halls of the Emerald Palace discussing everything that had gone on since Leyen's departure. It wasn't long before Oz's press secretary halted at a thick, quoxwood door. "Well here it is," Morrible exclaimed, stepping back. "Perhaps you should take a look."

Leyen twisted the handle and took a naively unthinking step inside. Immediately her eyes were bombarded with explosions of ripe, scarlet color. Tall, green stems reared from pot after pot like riffle barrels adorned with bloody halos. Every surface in the room was packed with Ozian poppies.

Before the blonde could escape a hollow thud and metallic click indicted that she'd been locked inside. Already sweet, heady fumes were invading her head. The confined space combined with so many sleep inducing flowers would put her out in very little time. If no one came to offer aid Leyen would dehydrate and starve. This room was in the Palace's excess housing segment; she couldn't expect help anytime soon.

A wave of drowsiness swamped Leyen and she stumbled backwards with a gasp. This sharp intake of breath only brought more poppy ridden air into her body. The blonde's muscles went slack. She sagged against the door and slid into a muddled heap. All around frothy, red blossoms whirled into disorienting spirals. Only the window, a stark square of blue sky, remained sane.

Wait a minute…

The _window_.

Possessed with sudden hope Leyen lurched towards the pane of glass. She scrambled across the carpet and her lethargic lower body dragged unenthusiastically along. Trembling fingers groped for the clasp holding the window closed. Eventually one sluggish movement managed to complete the task. Now Leyen only had to push the lower pane upwards. Everything abruptly felt very heavy as she wedged her uncooperative fingers beneath the wooden trim.

It didn't budge. The blonde's body slumped lower. Only her determined hand remained upright, pushing at its last hope. Seconds later Leyen's arm slithered to the floor in defeat. Her head lolled back to take in the great, emerald expanse of ceiling. It rippled like a springtime pond fringed with frilly poppy blooms. Slowly the blonde processed that this death was more peaceful than any she'd imagined her treachery leading to. There wasn't anything painful about it; she would simply fall asleep and never wake up.

Her lips twitched upwards at that, trying to smile. The trance rolled over Leyen in a gust of oily fragrance. Milky, blankness glided across the blonde's eyes as her lids slipped halfway closed. Overhead ruby letters were bleeding across the ceiling. Before darkness took over Leyen read them.

_What little time we had. I'm not coming back. _

**I'm so evil to end with a cliffhanger before disappearing for two weeks, but that's just the way I roll…**

**DON'T FLIP OUT; THIS IS NOT THE ENDING!**

**IMPORTANT: For those of you who dislike unadulterated Leyen she will soon become immersed in the happenings of the Wicked storyline again!**

**Please, please, please, please review…I only got one for the last chapter; I miss my readers**

**Thanks to TheWitch'sCat for continuing to respond with amazingly detailed reviews!**


	25. New Plans

It hadn't taken long, after her desperate flight from the Emerald City, for Elphaba to fall in love with the Vinkus. She felt an odd kinship with Oz's brusque, western territory. It was a wild, opinionated land; certainly not for the faint hearted. However the Vinkus's aura of danger couldn't disguise its fierce, heart wrenching beauty. When the blazing sun pricked itself on jagged mountain peaks and bled across the sky Elphaba was floored by its vastness. Winkie Country was epic and unrelenting. It did not apologize for its revolt from the safe and conventional.

Elphaba was soaring over Kumbrica's Pass, reveling in the western sky's unending blue, when a vision struck her. Like all the witch's premonitions this was an unspecific surge of emotion. Fear drowned her heart and for a moment Leyen's unconscious face rolled over the far off skyline like a wind driven cloud.

Elphaba yanked her broomstick to a shuddering halt so quickly that she was almost thrown forward into a freefall. Adrenaline flooded the witch's system with sudden urgency. Oz's wicked witch, for all her rebellious freedom, was a slave to who and what she cared about. No matter how rational Elphaba's head strove to be her heart burned with enough passion to always overrule it.

So, even as she berated herself, the green woman turned towards the den of her most hated enemy.

/

Leyen felt cold air ripple across her limp features. The good witch squinted as stingingly frigid air pried her from slumber's warm embrace. "Ozian poppies," a steely voice mused. "I never took Madame Morrible for the kind to grant her enemies a peaceful death. Of course I suppose it _could've _been someone else. Or you could've been possessed with stupidity and locked _yourself_ in a room of potentially deadly flowers, but I never took you for a fool."

"It was Morrible," Leyen murmured sleepily, still slightly disoriented. She could feel something hard pushing against her thighs and arms encircling her middle.

"Wonderful," Elphaba commented. The good witch could hear a humorless smirk in her voice. "Now I've got _another _reason to wish that woman a horrible death." She sighed wearily. "I can't imagine why in Oz you came back here so trustingly. Everyone was suspicious after you spent so long away from civilization; did you really expect to be safe?"

"I didn't think they'd try to_ kill _me," Leyen muttered, still finding it difficult to move her eyelids.

"Your absolute naivety and total lack of negative sentiment both impresses and disgusts me," Elphaba replied. Her voice had lost its livid, bitter edge. The blonde witch grinned drowsily.

"Well we can't all be cynical rebels." Elphaba chuckled and Leyen's eyes finally flickered open. "Thanks for saving me," she said sheepishly. "Someday I'll pay you back."

"I sincerely doubt that," the wicked witch retorted. "And you should probably look around before you thank me." When Leyen proceeded to take in her surroundings she seized Elphaba's waist in a fit of instinctual panic. The two witches were sailing through a starry, night sky far above Oz's sprawling city of emeralds. Below thousands of jeweled, jade lights glittered like a thousand captured fireflies. However Leyen's mind was less concerned with the view and more concerned with the fact that only a flimsy broom handle separated her from a flailing death miles below. Elphaba cackled at the good witch's reaction. "It's really something isn't it?"

"Sure," Leyen muttered. "It's definitely _something."_ This only drew another chortle from the green woman.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of heights."

"I have no irrational qualms about high bridges or cliffs," Leyen responded. "But any _rational_ person would be frightened by this."

"I'm not."

"That's probably because you are, in practice, the farthest person from rational that I've ever met."

"You'll get no argument from me," the wicked witch replied. For a moment the two companions were silent as the night washed over them. "Where would you like me to drop you?" Elphaba wondered moments later.

"I'm not sure," Leyen admitted. "If I don't return to the Emerald Palace it means that I'll have to stop helping you."

"Which, after your life was just in jeopardy, would be the rational option."

"I can't leave you to lead this crusade of yours alone."

"Yes you can. In fact I'll be quite relieved if you do."

Leyen glared stubbornly at her friend. "Drop me down the street from the Emerald Palace," she demanded. Elphaba sighed in exasperation.

"Don't be ridiculous," she insisted. "You can't go back there with Morrible out for blood. After your stint in Quadling Country the Wizard won't take your word over that of his press secretary."

"I'll pretend as though I thought it was an accident," the good witch decided.

"I'm sure _that_ will work," Elphaba snorted. "'Oh Madame Morrible please don't feel bad about accidentally locking me in a room full of poisonous flowers. I got my good friend the Wicked Witch of the West to rescue me; no harm no fowl.'"

"Or I could tell her that I got out with a lock picking spell and assumed that she'd gone for help."

"Leyen it's too dangerous."

"No it's not," the blonde argued. "I'll avoid Morrible and ask the Wizard if my next trip can be to the Governor of Munchkinland. No one will be suspicious of me for going there." Leyen could see Elphaba's determination waver at the chance to get news of Nessarose.

"If you think you're in danger get out of there," the green girl muttered, backing down. "And don't do anything stupid. I don't need your death on my conscience."

/

"Your Wizardship?" Leyen rapped tentatively on Oscar's door.

"Come in," was his muffled reply. Inside Oz's ruler was reading a scuffed, leather book beside his crackling fireplace. "Ah, Leyen," he greeted warmly. "How are you?"

"Fine," the witch replied. "A bit shaken, but fine."

"Shaken?"

"I had a bit of an accident earlier," she explained. "There was a room full of Ozian poppies in the storage quarters and while Madame Morrible and I were poking around I somehow managed to get myself locked inside."

"That's dreadful," Oscar exclaimed sympathetically. "I trust you managed to escape safely."

"Yes; I've learned several lock picking spells over the past weeks," Leyen assured him. "Madame Morrible ran off to find the keys and I've spent the better part of the day searching for her. She must be wondering how I got out."

"Oh, well I'll let her know if I see her. Now, what was your reason for visiting at this late hour?"

"Well I was just thinking that it's been awhile since I've visited Munchkinland," the good witch explained. "Governor Thropp seems like a reasonable man but he _is_ the father of your greatest enemy. A visit to Colwen Grounds wouldn't be totally misplaced."

"That's a splendid idea," Oscar exclaimed. "Though you didn't have to rush down here in the evening to tell me."

"Well I was hoping to depart in an hour," Leyen admitted. "I prefer to travel overnight so I can sleep in the carriage."

"Oh," the Wizard responded. "Well that's quite alright. Just be sure to keep me updated. Your reports from Quadling Country were getting a little few and far between these last few weeks."

His words were more a friendly warning than a threat, but Leyen suddenly felt cornered. After her earlier encounter the blonde was still terribly jumpy. "I apologize," she muttered, already backing out. "I'll be sure to keep things as up to date as possible." With another polite bob of her head Leyen departed.

Before she left the Emerald Palace and all its infinite resources Leyen stopped by the library. In one of its dustiest corners she quickly selected a book on trap doors. It was the very one she'd used to build her trap for Kucharo, and would make a perfect present for him when she returned to Fede. No one would care if one obscure book went missing from the archives.

The blonde also felt obliged to check on Chistery. From his first words she knew something was wrong. _You've got to get me and my family out of here! _The Monkey's usually neat handwriting was jagged and desperate. It flailed across the parchment like the death throes of a tortured animal.

"Why?" Leyen demanded. "What's wrong?"

_I'm forgetting myself. I've started thinking like a dumb animal for hours at a time. My thoughts are going blurry. _The blonde's heart thrummed with anguish and rage in equal parts. She couldn't lose Chistery. He was the last tie to her old life and, more importantly, it was in her power to free him. One word to Elphaba and she would swoop in to rescue the Monkeys. If Chistery lost himself because Leyen was unwilling to risk her green friend she would never forgive herself.

"I'll talk to Fabala next time we meet," she promised.

_Is there any way to get word to her faster?_

"No. She's never in one place for more than a day," Leyen replied. "Just hold on; it won't be long until our next scheduled meeting."

_I'll try Yenlay. _

/

One of Colwen Grounds' first owners had been quite fond of exotic flowers and as a result the manor possessed an impressive garden. It was an artful maze laid out with plazas of brilliantly colorful blooms no more than ten paces from more subdued, melancholy corners. Leyen could feel life and balance thrumming through the very soil as she and Nessa roamed the grounds.

"Isn't it lovely?" her friend inquired, gesturing to a dazzling array of vivid blossoms. "Of course Elphaba always said these displays of color were conceited and frivolous. _She_ preferred shadowy, depressed hideaways."

"To read in?" Leyen guessed.

"No," Nessa sighed as they passed one such dim corner. "That was the funny thing; Elphaba just sat there quietly. I was always envious of how satisfied she could be with solitude."

"Hmm." The blonde had learned that it was best not to respond to these nostalgic comments. Nessarose missed Elphaba, but pride would not let her admit it. That's why each musing on her sister's past was quickly followed by some short of admonishment of the green girl's actions.

"Elphaba always did seem to have an issue with people," Nessa continued, voice harsher now. "All that senseless solitude taught my sister to shun society and look where it's gotten her. Look where it's gotten _me_. Everyone assumes that I'll make reckless decisions because of my crazy sister. As if my disability wasn't already such a hindrance."

"Nessa your chair is not a hindrance," Leyen argued. "Most people hardly notice it."

"I doubt that," the invalid retorted. "I haven't had a suitor in years."

"That's because you're intimidating," her friend chuckled, grinning.

"How am I intimidating?" Nessarose demanded. Her ignorance on the subject was almost comical.

"Where for one you're always dressed in those stern, black outfits," Leyen explained. Her words were accompanied by grandiose hand gestures, a habit she'd picked up from Kucharo. "And for another you roll around in that throne of a wheelchair. Plus you frown like some nanny about to scold a naughty child."

"I do not," Nessa argued as her face twisted into the exact expression Leyen had just described. The blonde couldn't help but snort. "What?"

"You're doing it again," she giggled.

"Doing what?"

"The angry nanny scowl." The brunette screwed up her face.

"Is this better?" she teased.

"Much," Leyen replied, still laughing. "You'll have men lining up at the door with a smile like that."

"Well Boq could do with some competition," Nessarose chuckled. She tossed the Boq comment out with a practiced air of nonchalance. Leyen rose to the bait.

"You're seeing Boq?" she squeaked excitedly.

"Well his family has fallen on hard times so he's working here," her friend elaborated. "We've just been chatting a bit and taking walks together. I think he likes me."

"That's wonderful!" Leyen exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you." Nessarose surveyed her friend expectantly. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me Miss Leyen," the brunette chastened. "I'm know I'm not the only one whose romantic fortunes have improved." Blood rose to her friend's face.

"You win," she sighed. "I met someone."

"What's his name?" Nessa demanded, allowing a little girlish immaturity to leak through.

"Kucharo," Leyen replied.

"That quadling boy you keep telling me about?" Nessa gasped. "You two are courting?"

"Well we've progressed past _courting_," the blonde hinted.

"You mean you two have been…_dragonsnaking_?" Nessarose could hardly contain her pious horror.

"No, no, no!" Leyen exclaimed as her face flamed. "I meant engagement."

"Oh." Now it was the invalid's turn to blush. "He's asked you already?"

"It's pending in the near future," Leyen clarified. Something akin to awkwardness filled the space between them. Nessarose averted her eyes.

"You'll be marrying a _quadling_?"

"Yes," the blonde confirmed, totally lost. "What of it?"

"Well it's not exactly…conventional," Nessa whispered. "People will _talk_." Leyen's eyes narrowed.

"Let them talk," she challenged. "I'm not gonna go shout it from the rooftops but if someone deems it necessary to root around in my personal life I will not hide from the fact that I'm in love with Kucharo. Those who don't like it can deal."

"I'm glad you've found someone!" Nessa defended. "I just want you to be prepared." Leyen sucked in a deep breath.

"I know," the blonde murmured. Suddenly she realized that her friend was staring. "What _now_?"

"You sounded like Elphaba just then," Nessa mused fearfully.

"I'm not about to fly off and become a fugitive if that's what you're worried about," Leyen teased in a gentle, peacemaking fashion. She apologetically took the invalid's hand. "After all people would _talk_."


	26. Embarassed to Death

"Ugh, why is this simple pattern so hard?" Nessa demanded as she plucked angrily at her knitting. A pair of stockings dangled from the clacking, orange needles. They were a mesh of jagged black and white seams.

"I think they look nice," Leyen commented kindly.

"They're supposed to have even stripes," her friend muttered as she finished the top of the second stocking. Leyen smiled mildly and changed the subject.

"Since when do you knit?"

"I learned how when I was younger," the invalid explained. "Lately it's been very relaxing; I've got a lot on my plate right now." The blonde gave her friend a concerned look.

"What's wrong?"

Nessa sighed.

"If I told you something would you promise not to tell anyone?" Leyen nodded solemnly, but the invalid seemed unconvinced. "This is a _serious _secret; you can't even tell the Wizard."

"I thought we'd established that I am about as loyal to the Wizard as Fabala is to Madame Morrible," the blonde exclaimed.

"Alright," Nessarose conceded. "My father is very ill. For the last month I've been governing Munchkinland by myself. The people think it's only temporary but…he's been getting worse every day."

"Oh Nessa, I'm so sorry," Leyen whispered. She gently took her friend's hand and squeezed.

"It's all Elphaba's fault," the brunette hissed as she squinted determinedly against bitter tears. "There was nothing wrong with Father until the nastiest rumors about her started. He's dying of_ shame_. And now the people don't trust me because of her. They've started calling me the Wicked Witch of the East."

"Nessa you can't really believe that it's possible to die of embarrassment," the good witch cajoled. She moved to kneel next to Nessarose. "Besides, he may pull through. Have you called in any sorcerers to try healing spells?"

"All sorts," the invalid whimpered. "They try their chants every day, but it's done nothing." Leyen's heart clenched. She wanted nothing more than to shoulder her friend's pain, to assure the brunette that everything would be fixed and right when the sun rose tomorrow, but they weren't children.

Rather than offer meaningless, pitying condolences, which the blonde knew Nessa had no stomach for, she moved a hand to the tear shaped ruby hanging around her neck. Leyen pulled gently on the frayed, hemp chord, but hesitated when she felt Fieb's gift lifting away from her skin. For years the jewel had been Leyen's touchstone; the one anchor tethering her to a life in Fede. It was like a second heart resting reassuringly against the blonde's.

_They'll always be a part of me, _Leyen thought firmly as she raised the ruby from beneath her thick white dress. _Giving up this stone won't change that. _

"Here," Leyen offered reverently. She settled the jewel neatly into her friend's outstretched palm. "Quadlings believe that rubies amplify healing magic. Maybe this will help somehow."

"This is the ruby that Fieb gave you?" Nessarose whispered, gently fondling the smooth, translucent gem. It threw watery, scarlet glitters over her face.

"Yes," Leyen responded. "But I want you to have it now." The significance of this gift wasn't lost on the invalid.

"Thank you," Nessarose exclaimed as she threaded her arms around the blonde. It was a slightly awkward hug with the chair digging into their stomachs, but the gesture was still unbearably sincere.

"You're welcome," Leyen replied. "You're always welcome."

/

Boq joined the girls later for lunch. It was held in a modest dining room, rather than the enormous dining hall Leyen had once been entertained in. This small space held a more familiar, casual air about it. Nothing gleamed or dazzled, it was all warm wooden, hues and traditional Munchkinland fabrics.

Oz's Emerald City Emissary found it rather odd to see Boq liveried in the shining, silver uniform worn by all servants at Colwen Grounds. Then again he was a member of the staff; perhaps it was normal.

"Hello Leyen," the munchkin exclaimed brightly. "It's good to see you again." His boyish grin had matured little over the years since Shiz.

"It's good to see you too," the blonde responded. "You haven't changed a bit." Here his smile wobbled uncertainly.

"Of course," he murmured with a swift, sorrowful glance at Nessarose. "Some things just don't change when we graduate." As soon as Boq had seated himself a rush of cooking staff swarmed their table. They laid out several rich, steamy dishes; a lightly spiced pumpkin soup, cornbread, and roasted ham.

Nessarose and Boq talked animatedly throughout the meal, though the latter seemed reluctant. Leyen interjected things whenever she understood the topic, which was rare. It astounded her how much the pair of Munchkinlanders had to talk about; everything from the weather to this year's crops fell under their umbrella of conversation.

Something about it rubbed Leyen the wrong way. It was too effortless, too conventional. The companionship felt synthetic, almost forced. Nessarose, however, seemed determined to ignore this underlying awkwardness; whenever Boq spoke her face lit up.

"So Leyen," the munchkin began, finally turning to their guest. "How are things in the Emerald City? Have you spoken to any other friends from Shiz?"

"Well I don't spend a huge amount of time in the City," Leyen admitted, swallowing her mouthful of warm, orange stew. "But I do see Glinda and Fiyero on a regular basis." Immediately she had Boq's full attention.

"Really?" he asked, turning his entire body to face the surprised blonde. "How are they?"

"Fine," Leyen replied nervously. Her tone was dripping with puzzlement. "Glinda's busy with social events and Fiyero spends all his time hunting for the Wicked…" She halted at Nessa's stricken expression. "Never mind."

Boq's face deflated into a glob of disappointment. From then on the munchkin retreated into wary, agitated silence and no amount of questioning could coax more than a one word answer from between his gritted teeth. "I don't feel very well," he told Leyen and Nessarose eventually. "Please excuse me."

"Boq…!" the invalid called after him as he departed.

The only reply she received was a door swinging shut. Leyen's perceptive gave swept over her friend's forlorn expression and made the horrible connection. Boq was right; things _hadn't _changed after they graduated.

"Nessa please tell me you're not doing what I think you're do…"

"Stop!" the invalid insisted. She held up a hand. "Please just stop. I know what you're going to say but…" A long breath shuddered out of her chest. "Boq really does love me; he just forgets sometimes. This stupid chair gets in the way. We deserve each other. _I _deserve_ him_."

"Ness…"

"Please," the brunette pleaded. A tiny drip of moisture slipped past her resolve and down the girl's face. "Everyone's abandoned me. Elphaba left, my father's leaving. Boq's all I have left."

"That's not true," Leyen insisted. "You have me."

"You don't see me for more than a few days at a time," Nessarose argued. "I don't blame you; you have a life to live. You've got a job and a man that loves you. Don't I deserve the same thing?"

"You can't force someone to love you," the blonde murmured, though Nessa's begging had burned her resolve away.

"I'm not forcing him. I'm just keeping him here until he remembers."

"You're keeping him here?"

"Well it depends on how you look at it," Nessarose muttered guiltily. "The point is Boq's happy here. He only gets moody when Glinda comes up in conversation, which is almost never."

"How long do you honestly think this can last?" Leyen demanded quietly. "Eventually Boq will tire of your game and leave you outright. Prolonging this lie just means it will hurt more when he does. "

"He won't leave!" the invalid all but shouted. "We're_ going_ to be happy together. It will just take time. We deserve each other." This repeated phrase threw Nessarose's stubborn denial into sharp relief. It couldn't have been more obvious if she'd shouted it from the rooftops of the Emerald Palace.

Leyen could see that the carefully constructed half-truth of Boq's affection was slowly draining her friend. She could see that it would hurt when this parasitical thought finally had to be expunged.

"I won't stop what's going on here," Leyen sighed reluctantly. "You're my best friend and I trust that you're wise enough to run your own life." Nessa nodded and shot her companion a thankful grin.

"But," the blonde continued, "I know the sharp girl I knew at Shiz, the one who could settle everything with her infallible maturity and common sense, wouldn't let this go on any longer." She looked the invalid straight in the eye. "I'm _begging_ you not to let this go on any longer. Nessa it will_ hurt_ you. It will _destroy_ you."

For the first time in the course of their relationship Leyen looked on her friend with pity. It shone in the glittering, emerald depths of her gaze, clear as daylight. Nessarose's face pinched itself into a severe mask.

"You've been here for three days," she hissed. "Perhaps it's time you return to the Wizard." Leyen drew back as if Nessa's words had been a spray of acid. Her eyes grew damp with hurt.

"Alright," she agreed sadly. "If that's what you want." The good witch stood and shakily moved away.

"Take the stockings from the parlor," Nessarose called. "They were meant to be a gift for you." Her words were meant to soften the blow of dismissal. They failed.

/

Illswater gleamed silver in the moonlight as Elphaba skimmed its surface. It was a beautiful night, so clear that the witch's shadow cut a neat, black silhouette out of the water. So clear that her informant's white clothing glowed like a mound of fresh snow.

"Hello Fabala," the good witch called as Elphaba landed beside her. "How are you?"

"Wicked," she replied with a grim smile. "Yourself?"

"Well enough." Leyen handed over the usual burlap sack of provisions. Elphaba wondered what sort of nostalgic object her friend had packed tonight. Something clanked quietly in the bag as she accepted it; perhaps the gift was a bottle?

"How's Nessa?" the green girl asked.

"Alright." Something about Leyen's tone struck Elphaba as off.

"What happened?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with." There it was again; that chord of heartache in the blonde's voice.

"You two had an argument didn't you?" Leyen nodded sadly. Guilt flickered in her eyes. "Don't take it too personally," Elphaba suggested. "My sister spent years having her potential as a governor undermined. She can't always handle her judgment being challenged."

"I feel like I've left Nessa when she needs me," the blonde sighed. "But you know how proud she is. I'm afraid that an apology will only make things worse." Elphaba settled a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder.

"It won't," she assured Leyen. "Just let Nessa know that you're ready to be forgive and forget. She's not foolish enough to push away such a devoted friend." The good witch smiled weakly.

"Thanks Fabala," she responded. "You're quite brilliant under all that wickedness."

"At least one person thinks so," the green woman muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like…like I'm not making a big enough difference. My work is keeping the Gale Force at bay and getting Animals to safety, but no real progress is being made. I won't be around forever."

"Why don't you ask your family for help?"

Elphaba's eyebrow arched skyward. "Has the moon made you loony?"

"Munchkinland is discontent," Leyen explained. "The people there may be ready to revolt against the Wizard. Even if they aren't your family is probably in dire need of allies."

"Did my father _say_ that he's concerned?"

"No but…" The blonde clamped her teeth shut around the second half of her sentence.

"But what?"

"Nothing," Leyen insisted. "I just think that you shouldn't try to shoulder this all yourself. It won't hurt to ask for help."

"Fine," Elphaba retorted, even as the idea sparked a flurry of hope in her cynical heart. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" The blonde took a deep breath.

"I want you to free the Monkeys you enchanted in the Emerald City," she exclaimed in one quick breath. Elphaba's eyes widened. Flames of fury and guilt flared to life in the hazel caves of her gaze.

"How could I have forgotten about them?" she whispered. Her brow creased in anger. "Their pain was my fault and I just left them there. How in Oz did I manage to…"

"Fabala it's ok," Leyen reassured her. "You'd just become a fugitive and there were Animals in more dire situations to rescue. Chistery doesn't blame you."

"You've spoken to them?"

"Well not _spoken_ exactly. But Chistery was my friend before he was captured. We've been in contact since I started working in the Emerald Palace."

"I'll fly there right away," Elphaba decided. She swung the burlap sack across her broomstick. "If I leave now…"

"Fabala you've got black circles under your eyes," Leyen argued. "We're only an hour or two from Colwen Grounds. Rest here for the night and then go to your family. Chistery can hold on for a few more days."

"But…"

"If you go flying away while half asleep you'll crash into a tree and break your neck. Then you won't be able to help anyone."

"Fine," Elphaba huffed.

The next morning news of a Bear execution scheduled in Stonespar End meant the Wicked Witch would have to detain her plans for a rescue mission.

But she swore not to forget what Leyen had suggested.


	27. The Wicked Witch of the East

When Leyen returned to the Emerald City she was rather irritated to find her mailcubby, secured in a wall of the palace designed for such things, devoid of letters. She'd given Kucharo her address, knowing he could post a note from Qhoyre. The blonde had hoped to return from Munchkinland and find a letter asking her to come home.

Leyen was not a person who spent much time angry, but, in this one instance, Kucharo's hesitant behavior did have her slightly annoyed. Not for a second did the young woman self consciously wonder if Kucharo was having second thoughts. She saw things clearly and understood that her courtier was just being careful. It would've been endearing if it wasn't so annoying. When things were supposed to happen Leyen preferred they happen quickly, instead of just postponing the wonderful inedibility of their marriage.

With an exasperated sigh the blonde returned to her chambers.

/

"Nessa there's a package for you," Boq exclaimed, extending a parcel to his employer. They were back on good terms again, his temporary moodiness having passed.

"Thanks," the invalid replied, examining her gift. It was fairly plain, wrapped in crinkly brown paper and totally unmarked. "It must've been sent with magic," she mused quietly.

Inside a pair of familiar, hand-woven stockings leered up at Nessarose. Their impossibly mismatched stitches had been rearranged into the neat bars of black and white she had originally intended. Stinging heartache crackled across Nessa's heart when she remembered the circumstances under which these had last been mentioned.

"There's a note," Boq observed as he peeled a piece of parchment from amongst the wrappings. He read it aloud.

_Dearest Nessa,_

_I wish friendships were as easy to fix as these stockings. I spend every day regretting our argument and hope that you'll accept my apology for being so judgmental. The Wizard has suggested that I visit Munchkinland in a few weeks and I hope you'll be amiable enough to receive me as a guest. _

_I miss you,_

_Leyen _

Dawn broke across Nessa's face. "Boq, please roll me to my study," she requested, grinning. "I'd like to compose a reply immediately." The munchkin smiled fondly and obeyed. He truly did care about the invalid, it just wasn't in the way she so desired. Every day Boq considered the best way to break this news to a girl he loved almost as a sister.

/

"Leyen it's so good to see you!" Glinda squealed as she leapt up to embrace her friend. They were again meeting at the Viridian Cafe, but this time Fiyero was occupied with a recent sighting of the Wicked Witch.

"It's good to see you too," the pale blonde responded, though her enthusiasm was still slightly dampened with lingering annoyance. "How are things in the City?"

"Jittery," Glinda replied truthfully as she settled onto the somber quoxwood of their booth. "All the rumors about Elphie have scared people witless. They get more panicked and angry every day." She sighed daintily. "I didn't think this glamorous job would be so…"

"Demanding?" Leyen supplied.

"Exactly!" the petite woman exclaimed. "I shouldn't complain though; this position with the Wizard, adored by everyone, is everything I've ever wanted." Glinda's voice wavered on the last few words, as though she couldn't quite convince herself that they were true.

"How's Fiyero?" Leyen queried, hoping to add some cheer to the moment. Unfortunately mentioning the Winkie drew a cloud over Glinda's delicate features.

"He's been awfully quiet and moodified this last month," she explained forlornly. "Earlier this year it always felt like Fiyero was getting ready to tell me something important. I thought he was going to…" The blonde pursed her seashell lips shut.

"You thought he was going to _what_?" Leyen prompted. Glinda leaned in.

"I thought he was going to _propose_," she whispered. "But then the nastiest rumors about Elphie started coming in and he was always busy." The blonde's lip swelled outward in a heartbreaking pout. "Now I'm not sure we'll ever get married." Glinda's plight brushed an exposed nerve and Leyen spoke without thinking.

"Then _you_ should propose," she exclaimed. "If Fiyero's just being dense you should ask _him _to marry _you_."

Glinda's sapphire eyes lit up like sparklers. "Leyen that's brilliantified!" she squealed. The petite woman clapped her hands together in a spasm of pure delight. "It'll be the event of the century. There will be a huge banner and speeches. Oh, but it's got to be a surprise."

"You're going to ask him in public?"

"Well I won't exactly _ask_ him," Glinda replied, planning as she spoke. "We love each other; I don't see why there needs to be any asking involved." Leyen's heart rolled into her suddenly uneasy stomach. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Glinda perhaps you should stop and think about…"

"I've got to start planning right away!" Oz's dazzling figurehead trilled, too caught up in a private fantasy of gowns and bridesmaid dresses to hear her friend. "There's not a moment to lose. Leyen thank you, thank you, thank you!" She bounced up from the table. "I'll see you later ok?"

Glinda didn't wait for a response. She pranced out the door afloat on a cloud of daydreams.

"Sweet Oz," Leyen murmured to herself. "I hope this doesn't go wrong."

/

Nessarose Thropp was not in a good mood. A few hours ago, right after the invitation to Glinda's engagement ball arrived, Boq began to talk of leaving. Nessa had started shouting and now the munchkin wouldn't stop being stiff and proper with her. He held all the emotion of a tin statue.

"Will there be anything else Madame?" Boq asked primly.

"I've asked you to call me Nessarose," the invalid chirped in a threateningly happy voice. "Remember?" It was a veiled order.

"Yes," her servant spat. "_Madame_." He strode purposefully out.

"Boq?" No answer. Nessa's heart sank. Suddenly her spacious quarters felt small, gloomy, and desperately lonesome.

She examined herself in the little, silver hand mirror always kept nearby. _I'm still pretty, _the invalid thought forcefully. _Even if this chair gets in the way of _everything_ I deserve I'm still pretty._

"Well it seems the beautiful just get more beautiful," a chillingly familiar voice ghosted from her wardrobe. Elphaba's face appeared behind the frosted glass. "While the green just get greener."

Had Nessarose's legs not been immobile she would've leapt from her chair in fright. As it was the brunette shrieked like a startled mouse.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba apologized as she emerged from the closet. Half of Nessa's heart soared at seeing her sister alive and well while the other half soured with years of resentment. "Did I scare you?" the green woman worried. "I seem to have that effect on people." A smile broke across her viridian face. "It's good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Nessa hissed.

"Well there's no place like home," Elphaba joked weakly. They both knew that this place had never really been her home. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this," the witch explained sharply. "But I need Father's help. I need him to stand by me."

"That's impossible," the invalid responded tonelessly. Her father had passed only a day or two after Leyen's gift arrived several weeks ago. It was still being kept secret from the press.

"No it's isn't!" Elphaba exclaimed, kneeling beside her sister. "He'll do it for you Nessa; you know he will."

"Father's dead," the invalid snapped.

"What?"

"He's dead," she repeated bitterly. "I'm the governor now." Elphaba stumbled backwards in shock. "Well what did you expect?" Nessa stormed on hatefully. "After he'd heard what you'd done, how you _disgraced_ us, he died of shame. Embarrassed to death."

The green woman swallowed. "Good, I'm glad, it's better this way."

"That's a wicked thing to say," Nessarose gasped. She'd never heard her sister sound so callous. What had happened over these last years to harden her so? Maybe she really was wicked.

"No it's just true," Elphaba defended, "because now it's just us. You can help me. Together we'll…"

"Oh Elphaba shut up!" the brunette snarled. She lowered her voice. "First of all, I can't harbor a fugitive I'm an unelected official." Nessa's eyes danced with fury. Every grievance she'd ever had against her sister boiled to the surface in a mass of writhing anger. "And why would I help you?" the wounded girl snapped. "You fly around Oz trying to rescue Animals you've never even met, and not once have you ever thought to use your powers to rescue me." She started to wheel herself forward aggressively.

"All of my life I've depended on you," she all but shouted. "How do you think that feels?" A sob tore through her voice. "All of my life I've depended on you and this hideous chair with wheels. Scrounging for scraps of _pity_ to pick up and longing to kick up my heels."

The devastated look on Elphaba's face, like a dog that had been viciously kicked yet still wanted to do right by its cruel master, almost broke the brunette's rage. Almost.

"Nessa there isn't a spell for everything," the green girl replied. "The power is mysterious. It's not like cobbling up a pair of…" Her sharp, brown eyes focused on the invalid's gleaming, jeweled slippers. Inspiration lit in Elphaba's eyes. "Wait," she breathed, yanking a much abused book from her satchel. She haphazardly slammed the old tome down and flipped frantically through page after page of illegible, swirly script.

With no explanation Elphaba began to chant. Her hands waved over the invalid's feet like a pair of lithe serpents. "What are you doing?" Nessa demanded warily. "What does that mean?"

Magical flames danced over her shoes, which suddenly began to feel unbearably hot. It was like she'd thrust her unusable feet into a furnace and they were blistering into oblivion. "My shoes!" the brunette shouted. "It feels like they're on fire." Elphaba continued with her spell, unabated. Nessa lifted her skirt, baring Leyen's stockings, and fanned desperately at the heated footwear. "What have you done to my shoes?" she shrieked.

Then a tingling started to race through Nessa's feet. She looked down at her slippers, which now gleamed as red as the ruby Leyen had given her, and time stood still. There was life stirring in the invalid's feet. Elphaba's magic was urging them to move, to lift up from the chair.

And so they did. First one foot, then the other. Legs, weak from disuse, attempted to haul Nessa's torso upright. She lifted into a standing position for one glorious, infinite moment before slumping to the floor. Elphaba scrambled to assist her sister, but Nessa held out a hand.

"No," she insisted, finally feeling free from the chains of pity and need. "Don't help me." Slowly but with building confidence she shakily managed to stand. A cackle of absolute joy escaped Nessa's beaming mouth. Elphaba was saying something as tears welled in her hazel eyes, but the invalid wasn't listening. Her mind was whirling. Memoires of all the things her blasted chair had prevented cart wheeled by in a triumphant collage until the most important one filled Nessa's vision.

"Boq!" the brunette cried excitedly. Surely now he would be hers. She stumbled to her desk, past Elphaba's open arms, and shook the small bell resting there. "Boq come quickly!" Nessa exclaimed.

"Boq?" the green woman repeated nervously as her sister settled back into the chair. "No, wait; no one can know that I'm here." She moved to slink back into the wardrobe, but it was too late.

"You!" Boq shouted upon entering the room. A shaking finger pointed accusingly at Elphaba. The frightened munchkin dashed to Nessa's desk and seized a letter opener. "Stay back!" he commanded, panicky, as the green woman moved towards him.

"Boq it's just me," Elphaba insisted. Sadness wavered across her features. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're lying!" the munchkin accused. He jabbed his impromptu weapon forward menacingly. "That's all you ever do." Boq turned to glance angrily at Nessa, guessing that she was allowing her supposedly wicked family member to hide here. "You and your sister," he hissed. "She's as wicked as you are."

"Boq what are you talking about?" Nessa whimpered.

"I'm talking about my life!" the munchkin growled. "The little that's left of it." He'd hoped to break the news of his platonic feelings and discontent gentler, but now there seemed to be no other options. "I'm not free to leave Munchkinland; none of us are," Boq raged, purposefully directing his angry rant at Elphaba rather than Nessarose. Even in such a heated moment there was no way he could say such furious things directly to her. "Ever since she took power she's been stripping the munchkins of our rights, and we didn't have many to begin with. And do you know why?"

"To keep you here with me!" Nessarose interjected, becoming desperate. "But none of that matters now," she continued, lifting free of the chair. "Look!" The letter opener clattered out of Boq's hand.

"You did this for her?" he questioned Elphaba. A weak slither of gratitude had leaked into the munchkin's tone.

"For both of us," Nessa corrected. Boq beamed. Now that the brunette was free from her chair she wouldn't need him as much; he was certain. Maybe today freedom had finally come for both of them.

"Oh Nessa this changes everything!" he cried, genuinely happy. Boq rushed forward to joyously embrace his friend. "Nessa!"

"Yes?" she responded expectantly.

"Oh Nessa," Boq repeated. "Surely now I'll matter less to you, and you won't mind my leaving here tonight."

"Leaving?" Thunder clouds rolled across her face.

"Yes," the munchkin explained, oblivious. "To the ball that's being staged announcing Glinda is engaged to Fiyero."

"_Glinda_," Nessarose hissed.

"Yes Nessa that's right," Boq confirmed. The brunette staggered heartbrokenly towards her desk. This couldn't be happening. The chair was gone, but Boq still didn't want her. All the certainty she'd built her life upon shattered. Maybe it wasn't the chair. Maybe it was her. "I've got to go appeal to her," the munchkin was saying. "Express the way I feel to her."

Boq's face slackened into sorrow as he glimpsed a flash of his employer's devastated expression. "Nessa I lost my heart to Glinda the moment I first saw her," he informed the brunette gently. "You know that."

"Lost your heart!" she snarled, whipping around. "Well we'll see about that!"

/

Panic and shame. Shame and panic.

That's what Nessa felt as she waited with bated breath for Elphaba to save Boq's faltering heart. The brunette was, for the first time in her life, disgusted with herself. She had aimed such sentiments at her chair before, but now there was no scapegoat to cast the blame on.

It was her who had been rash. It was her who might have just killed the man she loved so dearly.

"Save him please just save him," she begged, praying with more raw emotion than ever before. "My poor Boq, my sweet my brave him. Don't leave me till my sorry life has ceased. Alone and loveless here, with just the girl in the mirror. Just her and me; the Wicked Witch of the East." Nessa's voice trailed off as a horrible realization washed over her. "We deserve each other."

**And so begins the most heartbreaking chapters of this story…**

**I know I switched point of view between Boq and Nessa a lot during the Wicked Witch of the East scene but I really couldn't see any other way to explain everything correctly…**

**I wanted to explain why Elphaba's magic turned Nessa's slippers red so that's why I had Leyen talking about healing magic being connected with rubies**

**I also wondered why in Oz Elphaba wouldn't know that her father had died…because even if she was a fugitive I would think the Animals she rescued would tell her something that important**

**And also I noticed that in the Wicked Witch of the East scene Nessa was wearing the black and white striped stockings seen on her in the Wizard of Oz and I wanted to explain where she got them**

**PLEASE review!**


	28. Twists and Turns

Chistery had been sent to join his family in their massive chamber behind the throne room. Though he was ecstatic to see them again the Monkey couldn't help but wonder what this could mean. Was he so far gone that his services were no longer different from that of a dumb, thoughtless Animal? Did the Wizard have another sinister spell to visit upon the Monkeys?

Two days later the Goat (or was he a goat now?) with the hollow eyes was led into the barred prison. He walked only on all fours now and flinched at any sudden movements. Sometimes in the night he just sat up and bleated pitifully, as if in total confusion. The Goat's prestigious, university clothes, which now lay in tatters, were like a mocking banner of his old life. They also did little to shield him from the chilly, concrete floor. One evening Chistery took pity on the poor beast and offered a threadbare, white blanket he'd been given.

The Monkey soon learned why he and the Goat had been relocated. Apparently Morrible needed their cells for new prisoners. New test subjects would probably be a more accurate term if all the potions and spellbooks being shipped into the Animal housing unit was anything to go by.

_I hope Yenlay speaks to Elphaba soon, _Chistery prayed each night before he went to sleep. _I hope that I someday get to use these wings the Witch gave me. _

/

There was a commotion in the throne room. It was hard to understand exactly what was going on, the wall of gears was so thick, but Chistery thought it sounded as though a pleasant conversation had turned debate. Two stubborn voices, one melodiously feminine, bantered back and forth.

Then there was the metallic retort of a lever being yanked. Chistery and his relatives, who had been doing their best to listen in, leapt back as the wall of gears began to unfurl itself.

The Wizard's servant, when he realized what was happening, didn't wait for everything to open completely. He leapt through the first metallic crack large enough, fluttered over an obstacle, which turned out to be the Wizard's enormous bronze head, and landed in the throne room beside none other than Elphaba Thropp.

She started at his sudden appearance and then yelped in joy as the other Monkeys followed Chistery's lead. They chattered delightedly, swarming over every climbable surface with unadulterated enthusiasm. Leathery wings beat the air as a few of the younger Monkey's explored the boundaries of their newfound freedom with an airborne lap around the ceiling.

Surprisingly the Wizard, who sat complacently in a corner, wasn't at all dismayed by this sudden escape. He simply watched with a satisfied grin plastered across his deceivingly warm features.

Chistery tottered over to Elphaba, who stood delightedly in the midst of this chaotic cacophony, and held out a hand to convey his wordless thanks. She nodded, grinning, and gestured towards the sky. "Fly!" she commanded. "Fly. Get out of here!"

He happily obeyed. Chistery joined the gathering flock of aloft Monkeys and dispersed into the Emerald Palace to escape through windows, doors, and whatever other orifices had been foolishly left ajar.

/

As Chistery's family regrouped above the Emerald Palace it slowly dawned on them that this newfound freedom wasn't quite as wonderful as it had first appeared. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to live. Returning to their home in Quadling Country would undoubtedly lead to a re-capture. In any civilized place their haggard bodies and odd wings would attract immediate attention. Besides, they no longer possessed the ability to explain their situation to anyone.

Luckily years packed in the same cage, forbidden to speak, had taught the Monkeys a crude, instinctual form of wordless communication. Chistery, with a combination of squeaks, chatters and hand gestures, conveyed to his family that they should wait until the Witch of the West departed and follow her.

Satisfied with this plan the horde of primates hovered nervously over the Emerald City until two figures on broomstick took off from one of the far balconies. With screeches of exclamation they streaked after their savior and her newfound Winkie prince.

/

When Leyen arrived at Colwen Grounds she was immediately ushered inside by a servant clothed in shimmery, silver cloth. "Lady Nessarose is waiting for you in her quarters," he explained. Leyen followed him upstairs to the invalid's room.

Unsure how forgiven she was the blonde knocked tentatively.

"Who is it?"

"Leyen."

"Come in." Inside everything was dark apart from an oil lamp burning on Nessa's somber desk. The governess was seated there, in her wheelchair, working on a stack of crinkled papers. There was a new maturity in the brunette's deep eyes. It was half sad, half relieved.

"Did Boq…?" Leyen began. Her friend nodded sadly.

"I was wrong," she murmured. "It wasn't the chair that kept me from what I deserved. It was me."

"Nessa that's not…"

"Yes it is," the sorrowful woman argued. An unsteady, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. "Elphaba came to see me."

"Really?" Leyen raised her eyebrows in interest. "What happened?"

Nessa's smile widened without losing its melancholy edge. She slowly wobbled into a standing position.

The blonde's jaw went slack. "Sweet Oz!" she exclaimed excitedly. All composure vanished as Leyen dashed forward to embrace her friend. "You're _standing_! Nessa I'm so happy for you!"

The brunette laughed against her friend's chest. "It's wonderful," she agreed. "But, even after Elphaba did this for me, I was awful to her. And to Boq. I…" Nessa pulled back to look Leyen in the eye. "I did something absolutely horrendible."

/

Leyen held Nessa's hand as she tearfully related what had happened to Boq. "You were right all along," the brunette whimpered. "I'm so _heartbroken_ that he's left me but some part of me is almost weary with relief."

"You seem different," the blonde agreed as she gently rubbed soothing circles on her friend's back. "Calmer almost; more peaceful."

"I wish that I could apologize to Elphaba," Nessarose whispered. "It was the first time I'd seen her in years and I drove her away even after she helped me so much. What if I never see her again?"

"You'll see her," Leyen reassured her friend, even as she made a mental note to tell Fabala of her sister's change of heart. "Elphaba would never hold a grudge against you. She'll be back."

/

Nessarose and Leyen were sitting out in the gardens one evening when a furry, winged creature crashed into a nearby rosebush. Both girls leapt from their chairs in surprise. The brunette, still somewhat unaccustomed to the mechanics of standing, nearly toppled headlong into a nearby fountain.

"What in Oz's name was that?" she exclaimed, warily eyeing the foliage into which their nighttime visitor had disappeared.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Leyen reported as she steadied her friend. They watched with trepidation as _something_ crawled forth. It had a long tail and leathery wings and…

"Chistery!"

The Monkey leapt free of his thorny trappings and nearly tackled Leyen to the ground. "Who is this?" Nessa demanded in puzzlement.

"This is Chistery," the blonde introduced. "Remember the Monkey I've been telling out about."

"Oh." Nessa smiled in recondition of the primate her friend had explained worriedly on so many occasions. "It's nice to meet you." Chistery, unable to speak, simply took her hand and bowed graciously.

"How did you get free?" Leyen wondered.

The Monkey cast her an incredulous look. "Oh, right," she realized. "You need paper. Let's see if we can find some inside."

/

With the aid of some parchment and ink from the governor's study it didn't take Chistery long to convey that his family had followed Elphaba (Nessarose tried in vain to hide the grin that cracked her face at news of the green woman) while he headed to Quadling Country to see if he could find Leyen.

_But I didn't find you, _the Monkey wrote to his blonde companion. _I searched all the nearby villages. I did, however, find a young man quite desperate for news of your safety. _

"Kucharo?" Leyen guessed. Chistery nodded vigorously. His tail curled itself into knots in barely containable excitement.

_He told me to give you this. _With a grand flourish the Monkey reached into his worn, scarlet coat and withdrew a small, fur covered box. The Good Witch of the South, who had previously been grinning with glee at her primate friend's recent escape, froze.

"What is it?" Nessarose asked as she peered over the blonde's shoulder to see what Chistery had presented her with.

Leyen's hands trembled as she cradled Kucharo's gift. She gently lifted the lid in tiny, disbelieving increments.

On a bed of velvety rabbit fur lay a perfectly woven engagement bracelet studded with starbursts of vivid rubies. It was, without a doubt, the most breathtaking betrothal gift the blonde had ever laid eyes on.

And it was for her.

Tears flooded Leyen's eyes as she ran a tender finger over the dyed, leathery strands. "Sweet Oz," Nessa squeaked in her friend's ear. "I don't know much about quadling culture but…is that what I think it is?"

"Yes," Leyen whispered. "Kucharo just asked me to marry him."

_He said to tell you to come home, _Chistery scribbled on a fresh sheet of parchment. _He said he's done with waiting. _

Nessa squealed in a highly undignified manner and threw her arms around Leyen. "I can't believe it! You're getting married!" she exclaimed.

"I can't believe it either," the blonde responded. Tears began to streak silently down her cheeks. "Will you come?"

Nessa drew reluctantly out of the embrace. "I can't," she explained sadly. "There's too much to be done here. Munchkinland is in the midst of a trying political time." She squeezed the good witch's hand. "I wish more than anything that I could come."

"It's fine," Leyen assured the brunette. "Besides, there isn't much ceremony involved in a quadling wedding…and I'll be a little busy afterwards."

Nessa smacked her friend's arm and flushed tomato red from head to toe.

/

Chistery was more than happy to carry his ecstatic friend to Kwane. His enormous wings were quite strong and it wasn't a terribly long journey. Besides, had he not offered, the witch would've probably run there herself heedless of forests, rivers, or any other natural boundaries.

Nessarose and Leyen parted ways in the gardens. They hugged tightly and said goodbye in the unspoken way only close friends can. "I'll see you soon!" the blonde called as she and Chistery melted into the night sky.

If only her words hadn't been so bitterly ironic.


	29. Into the Woods

Kucharo had never been good at waiting. Now that he'd sent the engagement bracelet off with Chistery the quadling suddenly understood how Leyen had felt about postponing their betrothal. Why in Oz had he been so adamant about putting off this wonderful event?

With a sigh he settled on the edge of Kwane's reed thatching and dangled his feet into the water. What if something happened? What if the Wizard had discovered Leyen's treachery? Kucharo cursed himself, as he had increasingly often these last few months, for letting his sweetheart go to the Emerald City alone.

A gentle gust of air tousled the quadling's hair from behind, like a soft scold from nature. "I am such an idiot," Kucharo told the reeds clicking around his feet.

"It's nice to hear you finally admit it," chuckled a familiar, melodious voice. The quadling froze in utter disbelief. His head swiveled, quick as a whiplash, to the thatching behind him.

It was Leyen. Her hair was windblown and wild, as were her clearly unwashed clothes. The exhaustion of a long journey radiated from every pore of the blonde's body.

But her emerald eyes sparked with uncontainable joy.

"I just flew straight from Munchkin Land to get here," Leyen exclaimed. "So I expect a greeting that's worth my troubles." She was joking of course, but Kucharo felt he had to oblige her request anyway.

/

Leyen couldn't help but grin as Kucharo crashed his lips against hers. The village's thatching crackled as they toppled onto it. "That's more like it," the blonde laughed between desperately happy kisses.

"I missed you," Kucharo laughed outright. His hands tangled in Leyen's hair, as if to reassure himself that she was really here with him. "Did you get my gift?"

"Yes."

The quadling temporarily leaned back from Leyen. "So will you marry me?"

"I _really_ thought you'd never ask," the blonde giggled. She brought their lips back together for a brief, sweet kiss. "I would be honored to marry you."

"Finally," huffed an amused voice. The two sweethearts looked up to see Iban watching casually from a few feet away.

"Father!" Kucharo exclaimed indignantly. A wry grin seeped across the elder's scarlet features.

"Shall I prepare a wedding feast then?" he asked cheekily. As Kucharo tensed with irritation Leyen laughed.

"Yes please," she replied, as if not currently pinned and entangled with Iban's son. "I've had enough of this silly waiting."

/

True to quadling custom everything was ready within two short days. Every villager capable of walking on two legs dropped whatever they were doing to help. Any wedding would've elicited such help, but today there was a certain air of pride as well.

Princess Locasta, savior of Quadling Country, was marrying the son of a village leader. This was a _special_ wedding.

Leyen and Kucharo were torn apart to prepare for the festivities much sooner than they would've preferred. Baksey, a woman who had lightly befriended Leyen during her forays in Kwane, adapted a dress for the blonde. Leyen's outfit was made entirely by strands of bleached wispgrass threaded with small, fingernail sized rubies. The entire pale garment glittered as if someone had scattered burning embers on it. Baksey drew in the waist so it clung to Leyen's slight form a little tighter. The good witch wove a small, newly formed Ozian poppy into her free flowing hair for traditional good luck.

Right before Leyen entered the village for the ceremony, which would take place as a glorious sunset lit the sky, Chistery approached. The Monkey held no paper and displayed no intention to communicate. He simply held out his hand, in which a perfect, vivid butterfly rose rested. A nessa rose.

_For Miss Nessa, _Chistery scrawled in the mud. Leyen reverently fastened the offered flower in her hair. Then she knelt, careful to keep the borrowed dress mud-free, and engulfed Chistery in an emotional hug.

"Thank you," she whispered as ecstatic tears coursed down her flushed, excited cheeks. "You are a brilliant, wonderful friend." Chistery's grin needed no translation.

/

Just as an acute interest in mud was frowned upon in Gillikin, Quadling Country was likewise disenchanted with formal ceremonies. Predictably Leyen and Kucharo's wedding would be far removed from anything Glinda or Nessarose could ever envision. As a ripe, bloody ball of color dropped slowly into the wavering horizon everyone gathered in the village center.

A bonfire cast red glaze across Kucharo's otherwise ordinary, brown garb. The flames made Leyen's rubies dance, though no lifeless gemstone could sparkle like her eyes did as Kwane came alive with singing. Drums beat the air like thunderclaps. A spectacular hullaballoo rent the very fiber of the village. In time with every pounding beat the two sweethearts moved in a circle around the bonfire. They had started back to back on one end and now walked slowly, barely restrained, around the entire blazing circle until they stood face to face.

Once Kucharo and Leyen were facing one another everything went still. No one dared breathe.

"I love you Yenlay," Kucharo told his beaming blonde fiancée.

"I love you Kucha," Leyen echoed with barely containable emotion. She extended a hand and gently twined her fingers with his.

Iban, who stood apart on a raised block of bogwood, grinned. In accordance with generations of tradition he began to count slowly. "One. Two. Three…"

Kucharo and Leyen responded to this by moving briskly through the crowd towards the edge of Kwane's thatching. "Seven. Eight. Nine…" By now the blonde was nearly yanking her almost-husband's arm off in her hurry to escape the mischievous glances of the villagers. They knew what was coming.

"Ten!" Iban shouted. Leyen squealed as Kwane's entire population let loose a barrage of mud balls. Thick, brown goop splattered across their clothes. Everyone partook in the ceremonial mud fight, perusing Leyen and Kucharo as they fled, giggling madly. Eventually the thoroughly muddied couple reached sanctuary; the water. It was the final required act. They dove in, muddy but beaming, and emerged glistening, clean, and officially married.

/

That night the swampy woods around Kwane belonged to Leyen and Kucharo; everyone else was forbidden to enter until dawn brought light to Quadling Country. A bed of ferns caressed the newlyweds as they tumbled into a night of bliss.

Far away the Great Gillikin Forest belonged to another couple. After two and a half wearisome days spent evading the Gale Force, Elphaba and Fiyero had finally managed to find a place of temporary safety; a place where feelings repressed for years could finally come to passionate fruition.

The prolonged happiness of both tender, precious nights would be cut short by a tornado and a flying house.

/

Leyen woke to someone calling for her. The voice was gruff with regret and worry. Such a melancholy voice didn't belong in the blonde's perfect dream. Annoyed, she snuggled deeper into Kucharo's drowsy embrace. Warm, morning sunlight and damp grass cradled them as they drifted in and out of a happy restfulness.

"Yenlay!"

Wrinkles scrunched Leyen's face. Why was Iban shouting for her? Why did he sound upset? How could anything be wrong on such a perfect morning?

_It couldn't_, the blonde concluded, as she let her mind drift again. _Nothing's wrong._

"Yenlay, Kucharo please answer! I'm so, so sorry but…this is important! Something's happened!"

This time Leyen's eyes flew open. She jerked upright, scrambling for her discarded dress. "We're here Iban!" she shouted, unsure in which direction the quadling elder was calling from. Moments later Kucharo was awake and clothed as well. His father approached tentatively.

"What's wrong?" Leyen asked, totally bewildered. Behind her she felt Kucharo tense with realization. His arm came to wrap protectively around her torso.

"It's about your friend Nessarose," Iban explained. The regret in his tone was tangible. "Yenlay I hate to have to tell you this today…"

"What Iban?" the blonde demanded as fear closed its icy jaws around her heart. "What happened to Nessa?"

"Yenlay…" Iban reached a hand slowly towards his daughter-in-law. Leyen jerked away. Tears flooded her eyes.

"What _happened_?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

"She died."

/

There was a great crowd around the place where Nessa had been killed and Leyen wanted a private goodbye, so she waited in her deceased friend's study. An unsent letter lay on the desk, marred by several damp circles. Leyen had never been a person to numb her feelings. She let them out like the truthful, open person she was. Everything the blonde felt was bare to the world.

Except for now.

Now Leyen felt nothing but a great hollow emptiness inside her gut. There was no emotion. Nothing but nothing.

Now, as she looked over Nessa's last letter with utter composure, the good witch realized why that was. She had already felt this pain, and her heart was rebelling against the injustice of having to feel it again.

Purus had been Leyen's best friend, and her adopted little sister.

After Elphaba left the blonde had felt an increased duty to look after Nessarose and, despite the friendship and respect between the two girls, she had been like another slightly younger sister to Leyen.

And now she was dead too; stolen from the world much, much too early. Leyen _knew_ that it was devastatingly sad, but she couldn't _feel _it.

The manuscript lying on Nessarose's desk was a letter to Elphaba;

_My dearest sister,_

_ I cannot express how truly sorry I am for my treatment of you. It was wrong of me to act so shamefully after you'd restored my legs. Every night I lie awake, consumed by guilt. What if I never see you again? I don't want the last words passed between us to be so hateful. _

_ I know that I didn't say this enough at Shiz, but I love you. And, even though Father was always so convinced of it, I never blamed you for my legs. It was never your fault. But it _was_ you who let me stand for the first time and, now that I'm not so blinded by pride, I am so, so grateful. _

_ I'm hoping that Leyen can find a way to get this to you. I think that she may know more about your whereabouts than she tells me. That would be just like you; conspiring with my best friend to keep me safe. It's that sort of preoccupation with the welfare of others that also keeps me worrying into the late hours of the night. The life you're living is a horribly dangerous one. _

_ I know how stubborn you are, but I hope you'll consider falling back from the front line of this fight. Not giving up, since I know you're too proud for that, but perhaps going into hiding. I know you can disappear when you want to. _

_ Elphaba more than anything I want you to be safe. You can't keep this up forever. Please look out for yourself…for me. _

_Love,_

_Your sister Nessa_


	30. Time to Disapear

Elphaba wanted nothing more than to appear again in a puff of smoke and terrorize those munchkins that were so callously celebrating her sister's death. However Glinda's words had been quite accurate; she had no power here. The Gale Force had probably been notified of her presence in Munchkin Land already. If she didn't watch herself they would be all too eager to permanently end her one woman crusade.

A few days ago Elphaba would've been glad for a spear in the gut at this point, but now she had someone besides Nessa to love, care for, and protect; Fiyero. She couldn't leave him to endure the fallout of choosing her alone.

But giving up would be so much easier. Tears coursed down Elphaba's face as she hid among the rattling, crisp corn stalks of her homeland. When she was younger the witch used to run away and hide here. She liked to pretend that the corn plants, so tall and thin and green, were her real family. Of course, even as a child, Elphaba was absurdly practical, so this fantastical comfort didn't last more than a few moments. Today the teary woman leaned into a particularly thick clump of corn and pretended the rough, starchy leaves were Fiyero's warm arms around her.

"Fabala…"

Elphaba's eyes, which had been drifting close, snapped open. Leyen was moving towards her through the corn. The blonde's emerald eyes were wide with sympathy. "You're waiting?"

"Yes," the green girl croaked. Her voice was swollen with emotion. "I'm not gonna go over there while that murdering little girl is flouncing around."

"Fabala I'm so, so sorry," Leyen whispered. Her hand gently encircled Elphaba's. It was a testament to how much pain the witch was in that she accepted physical comfort so willingly.

"I'm going to_ kill_ the Wizard," Elphaba rumbled.

"What?"

"Leyen I know you always want to see the best in everyone, but do you really think this was an _accident_?"

"I admit Nessa's death was odd but…"

"Odd? Someone murdered my sister! Anyone who would do such a thing deserves to die." A morbid, humorless smile took control of Leyen's face. Today was an echo; a reflection of the blonde's greatest pain. The only difference was that her role had changed.

"Fabala years ago I asked you to kill murderers. Do you remember what you told me?"

Elphaba shook her head.

"You told me that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. You told me that if I let the pain change me into something I wasn't, that was letting the murders win, that was letting them own me."

Leyen could see her friend's broken eyes flame with conflict. It was Elphaba's fervent need for justice burning against what wisdom said was right. The usually certain woman was caught between her two deepest instincts.

"Nessa wouldn't have wanted you to risk yourself for her," Leyen pointed out softly. She gestured in the direction of the fallen house. "This happened because someone wants to get at you. Fabala you can't keep living like this; you've got to go into hiding or the people you love will continue to be taken away."

"I can't," Elphaba protested. "I can't stop helping the Animals." Leyen's gaze grew tender.

"You've got to start thinking of yourself. The Animals will be ok; you've given them what they need to survive on their own. Besides, you aren't alone in this. I'll keep helping and so will Glin…"

"Glinda won't help me," Elphaba snarled. Her eyes flashed and Leyen decided to let the subject drop.

"The point is, it's time for you to disappear," she exclaimed. "It was what Nessa wanted." Leyen held out a rumpled letter. "This is for you."

The Witch of the West eagerly took her friend's offering. She read the note with bittersweet joy. "She forgave me," Elphaba laughed. It was heartbreaking sound; half gleeful, have aching with melancholy. Her chuckle turned to a hiccup as tears flooded in. "Oh Nessa."

"She wanted you to be safe," the blonde cajoled.

Elphaba wiped her eyes. "Leyen it's not that simple. Even if I run away they'll never stop looking."

"They will if you're dead." Hazel eyes narrowed into green ones.

"What do you mean?"

Leyen removed a leather volume stuffed with loose sheets of parchment. "This book outlines how to build trap doors," she explained. "I was going to give it to someone else, but I think you might have more use for it."

"I don't follow you."

"People think that water will melt you. I suggest that you build one of these doors in a house somewhere, let the Gale Force find you there, and…"

"Fake my death," the green woman realized.

"Exactly."

"Why did you come up with this?" Elphaba's eyes searched her friend's.

"Your safety was my best friend's dying wish," Leyen shrugged. "And friendship doesn't end with death." The blonde turned, ready to leave Elphaba alone to mull over everything she'd learned, but turned back for a moment.

"I know it seems unimportant on such a sad day," Leyen said. "But I just wanted to say that I'm happy that you and Fiyero are finally together. You deserve him."

"I'm glad someone thinks so."

/

Leyen left Elphaba to visit the vacant site of her sister's death alone then, and only came back several hours later with a bouquet of butterfly roses. By now the house was abandoned, it stood alone and misplaced beside a cornfield. Leyen reverently placed her flowers at the base of the dusty, crumbling building.

"I'm sorry Nessa," she whimpered quietly. "I'm sorry you were taken from this world before you could make the grand difference you so desired." Finally some tears slipped through the blanket of numbness.

"But I hope you're aware that you changed my life for the better. I know, without a doubt, that if you'd had more time you would've become a great governess." The blonde slithered slowly to her knees.

"I thought of you at my wedding. It would've been perfect if you had been there." She drew in a deep, breaking breath. "I'm going to make sure that your last request is heeded; I'm going to do everything in my power to keep Fabala safe."

Leyen wasn't sure exactly what she had expected, perhaps some slight sign that Nessa had heard her promise, but the silence she received certainly wasn't it. The blonde bowed her head the let the numbness fully slide away. Without its protection grief flooded in.

She cried for a long time. She cried for all her happy memories of Nessa turned painful and she cried for all the future experiences stolen away. Sometimes the good witch wasn't totally sure if she was crying for Nessa or Purus or Elphaba or even the corrupted, grief stained heart of Oz itself.

Leyen's untainted fantasies of a perpetually happy, fairytale, world had been washed colorless by a mixture of blood and tears. She knew, and had known for years now, that the world would never be perfect. There would always be bad people with good luck. There would always be good people upon whom the world visited unspeakable horrors. However Leyen had always held on to a grain of hope that in the end, whenever the end was, good would triumph.

Never had her faith been tested more than at that very moment.

As Leyen wept she felt something gently brush her shoulder. Somewhat angry to have been interrupted she turned. It was only a butterfly, whose vivid, sunset colored wings blew a kiss of air over the blonde's cheek. It wobbled up, higher, towards the nearby cornfields.

On a whim Leyen stood and followed the dainty insect. Its progress was slow and halting, almost as if waiting patiently for Leyen to stumble through the tall, green stalks below. After several surreal moments of pursuit the good witch heard someone moan. It was a sound of overwhelming pain, of death, of surrender. "Hello?" Leyen called. A rasping, unintelligible grunt responded. Worried now she moved quickly after the noise.

Leyen burst through the corn onto a segment of the Yellow Brick Road that apparently bisected the field. Beside this golden river of flawless yellow was a bleeding man hung like a scarecrow on splintery, wooden poles. He was dressed in simple, worn clothes, but Leyen recognized him immediately.

Dread plunged through her system like ice water. No. This couldn't be happening. Not another of her friends, another of Elphaba's loved ones. Not so soon.

"Fiyero!"

Every desperate, pounding footstep Leyen took towards her friend's lover rang with fierce anguish. She was aghast at the unfairness of it all. Surely out of all the people in Oz Elphaba most deserved to be happy, to have someone love her. Especially since the green girl's childhood had been so sadly empty of affection.

But the world was clearly going to tear that away from her too.

Fiyero was beyond help. Blood leaked from his mouth and he looked near death already. "What happened?" Leyen whispered upon reaching him.

He mumbled something.

"What?"

"I didn't tell them," Fiyero bubbled. A half smile tugged at his broken lips. "I didn't tell them where she went." It took Leyen only a moment to understand what he meant.

"Where are you hurt worst? I know a healing spell…"

"Don't Leyen," he coughed weakly. She was surprised the Winkie could recognize her; his eyes were swollen and mottled with purple. "It's too late. You can't save me."

"Don't say that…"

"Just tell Fae that this isn't her fault; I'd gladly die for her. I love her."

"I'm not going to just sit here and watch you die," Leyen hissed.

"Then leave. There's no way to cheat death." A frantic fervor was growing in the blonde's chest. She seized Fiyero's face and glared into his eyes.

"Don't you dare give up," she all but snarled. "I understand that you're ready for death, but if you die Fabala will give up. The death of another loved one will drive her over the edge. So, if you really love her, fight. Prove to Fabala that there's still enough good left in the world worth fighting for."

At first Fiyero seemed startled by Leyen's sudden angry intensity. Then, as her words sunk through his pain battered skull, the Winkie's gaze hardened with resolve. His jaw clenched. Leyen began to recite every healing spell she knew of, praying that, somehow, she could keep Fiyero alive long enough for some miracle to save him.

**I have some exciting news (well exciting for me); Idina Menzel is coming to Denver for a one night only concert in which she will sing songs from Wicked, RENT (another musical I love), and Glee…and my WONDERFUL parents got tickets!...it keeps hitting me at random intervals throughout the day that I'm gonna get to see Idina Freakin Menzel sing Defying Gravity live…I think my head may explode!**

**Please review!**


	31. Witch Hunters

**First of all let me say that I know things in this chapter are incongruent with the Wizard of Oz…however since this is a Wicked fan fic I figured that, where the storylines contradict one another, Wicked should be the one I go with…**

**Also I'm terribly sorry that this is so late but homework has taken a monstrous bite out of my free time lately and as I approach the end of this story (which I have been working on for just under a year) I find myself very reluctant to finish it…sorry**

Leyen didn't need to look at Fiyero's battered body to know when it was over. Her healing spell, unable to work on a nonliving subject, withdrew itself. Tears threaded from the blonde's eyes in long, gleaming streams. Her previous fervent anger had totally dried up. Now as the good witch bowed her head she just felt weary with failure.

Leyen turned her face up to examine Fiyero's body and jumped. Elphaba's lover had been replaced by a limp man made of burlap and straw. The scarecrow, for that was what it was, dangled lifelessly from the poles like a ragdoll.

"F..Fiyero?" the blonde stuttered. Grief had been replaced by utter bewilderment.

The straw man shook himself. He glanced up at the good witch with a pair of twinkling, tawny button eyes. They were oddly familiar. "Leyen what's going on?" Fiyero's voice mumbled, rasping past cloth lips. "I don't feel anything."

"Sweet Oz," the blonde gaped. "Fiyero you're a…a…" He looked down at himself and tensed. A single word trickled through the Winkie's mouth.

"Fae…"

"You think Fabala did this?" He shrugged in a loose, puppet-like fashion.

"Who else?" Fiyero had a good point; there wasn't another witch in Oz capable of casting such a high caliber spell over distance. Just as Leyen was about to pull her companion down off the poles she heard the distinct clicking of shoes on the Yellow Brick Road.

"Look dead," the blonde hissed at Fiyero as she scrambled into the corn plants behind him. Obediently the scarecrow went limp just as a girl of about twelve or thirteen appeared. She wore a simple, blue checkered dress and was accompanied by a small, black terrier. The girl's dark hair, which was twisted into a pair of girlish pigtails, and bright, chocolate eyes vaguely reminded Leyen of a young Elphaba.

_Click. Click. Click. _The sound of heels striking brick drew Leyen's eyes to the newcomer's feet. They were adorned with flashing, ruby slippers. The blonde's heart clenched. So this was Dorothy.

/

Fiyero's eyes squinted open. He could see anonymous, pale legs through his limited scope of vision. Fiyero would've been unable to recognize this newcomer if it weren't for the proverbial ruby shoes on her feet.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road," the girl mused as she came to a fork in said roadway. "Well now which way do we go?" She seemed unable to determine which branch of the Yellow Brick Road led to the Emerald City. Or, at least, Fiyero assumed that's where she was headed. Rumors said that this young witch killer was going to meet the Wizard, either to find a way home or to learn how to kill Oz's other infamous witch.

An idea wormed its way into Fiyero's head. Depending on Dorothy's business with the Wizard it was either brilliant or very stupid.

/

Leyen watched curiously as Dorothy unhooked Fiyero from the poles he was bound to. The little girl seemed quite enchanted with what she probably assumed to be nothing more than a talking scarecrow. What in Oz was Fiyero doing?

As the Winkie lurched unsteadily down the road beside his new acquaintance he caught Leyen's gaze. One of Fiyero's button eyes twisted in an odd way that somehow conveyed a wink. Leyen nodded and prayed that he knew what he was doing.

/

Leyen stayed in Nest Hardings' only inn that night. She wanted so badly to return to Kucharo, but it would be incredibly selfish to hide in the swamps while her friends had their lives torn apart. They needed her, and, since Nessa's death, the blonde had accepted that her life would not be settled or simple until Oz was.

Thoroughly exhausted she collapsed onto a creaky, inn bed and wrapped herself in a nest of worn, patchwork quilts. Tears trickled down Leyen's face for the brief minutes before she fell asleep.

/

The blonde was startled awake by a commotion outside her open window. It looked out on the village's main road and currently depicted a rather hectic scene. An enormous farm wagon, loaded down with long, wooden boards, was turned over on the wide cobblestone avenue. Several other carts, carrying similar cargo, were now trapped behind it. Everyone was scurrying about, shouting orders to one another, and trying to right the capsized mass of splintering wood and rusty wheels. All this was bathed in the sweltered heat of noon. Apparently the blonde had overslept.

Leyen's brow creased in confusion. Why were so many wagons, especially those clearly designed for farm work, crowding into Nest Hardings? She quickly dressed and made her way outside. There was a tavern next door to the inn, where Leyen hoped she could attain both news and breakfast. "I'll take the best food you've got," she told the bartender who shuffled away with a grunt.

There were only a few people dining in the shadowy building. They picked at their porridge or eggs in almost complete silence. So much for listening in on the latest gossip. When the bartender retuned with her food, a steaming meat pie, Leyen stopped him.

"What's going on with those wagons?" she asked.

"Haven't you heard?" he demanded gruffly. "Dorothy spoke to the Wizard yesterday evening. She's coming to Nest Hardings to recruit for some sort of witch hunt. Those wagons are carrying wood for the stands and balconies."

"Balconies?" How big an event was this?

"Yeah," the bartender replied. "I heard from someone that Glinda the Good and Madame Morrible have been sent to oversee the rally."

"Really?" Leyen managed to cough out, even as her throat constricted with worry.

"If you ask me it's a fool's quest," the crude man explained. "The moment that little girl sets foot on Vinkun soils the Wicked Witch will vaporize her."

"So the witch is living in the Vinkus then?" This earned the blonde a queer look.

"It was all over the evening papers," her informant exclaimed. "Apparently Kiamo Ko is overrun with those flying apes of hers."

/

Chistery's wings drooped with exhaustion as he glided over Nest Hardings. At Elphaba's request he'd spent nearly all day searching for Fiyero's body. Night was falling and the Monkey needed a place to rest. Below him there was some sort of rambunctious meeting. A crowd of Munchkinlanders, all brandishing pitch forks or rope, was chanting something as a stiff, silver figure looked on from above.

Curious now Chistery drifted closer, careful to stay well away from the torchlight. His keen eyes picked out a soft spot of white standing in a nearby alley. Leyen. The Monkey landed gracefully in the shadows behind his friend and realized that she was speaking to someone. Strangely enough the unfamiliar man looked almost like a scarecrow. No, he was a scarecrow. Hidden by shadow Chistery squinted in confusion.

"I gave Fabala a plan, she'll be fine," Leyen was saying.

"And what if they decide to use bullets or pitchforks on her instead of water?" the scarecrow challenged. Such a concerned expression was at odds with the jovial paint that constituted his face.

"Fabala's smart," Leyen replied, though she sounded less certain now. "We'll just have to trust her." The straw man shook his head.

"No," he insisted. "I'm going with the witch hunters to make sure nothing goes wrong. At that moment a munchkin bearing a torch walked past the alley, casting away the darkness that his Chistery. Leyen gasped.

"Chistery what are you doing here?" she demanded, half joyous half worried. The primate drew a fractured slate and piece of chalk from his scarlet jacket.

_Elphaba sent me to find Fiyero's body. _Chistery held the blackboard so only Leyen could see. His eyes shone with sorrow upon thinking of the green woman's agony. For awhile she was nearly mad with anguish.

"Fiyero's not dead," the blonde responded, grinning. Chistery blanched in shock as Leyen gestured to the scarecrow looking on from behind them. "This is him," she explained. "Fabala's magic turned him into…this."

"It's true," the straw man assured Chistery. He smiled and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Somewhat baffled the Monkey accepted Fiyero's handshake. _You must tell Elphaba, _he scribbled. _She's devastated. I was afraid to leave her. _Leyen paled.

"We've got to get word to her immediately. Chistery could you…" The blonde glanced over her friend's tired posture. "Never mind, you're exhausted. I have a room here where you can rest while I write a letter for you to take to Fabala."

Leyen turned briefly to Fiyero. "Be safe," she instructed. "Don't do anything brainless." The scarecrow smiled grimly at her, ready to resume his facade.

"Never."

/

"If she'd let him fight his own battles when he was young, he wouldn't be a coward today," Boq, now known only as the heartless Tin Man, shouted. Below him a host of Munchkinlanders, dressed in raggedy, rust colored garments, responded raucously.

Across from Boq Glinda stood beside Madame Morrible on a newly contrasted balcony. "No," the blonde whispered in response to her old schoolmate's accusations. "That's not how it happened." She turned to the press secretary. "Madame Morrible we must stop this before it has gone too far."

"I think Elphaba can take care of herself," the fish-like woman chortled gleefully. Glinda bit her lip, wondering whether or not she should broach a long hushed subject.

"Madame something has been troubling me about Nessarose," she began nervously. "And that cyclone."

"Yes," Morrible pouted in false sorrow. "I suppose it was just her time." Glinda wanted so much to let this confrontation slide away, but Elphaba's words were needling her with guilt.

_Do you think cyclones just appear, out of the blue?_

"Was it?" Glinda challenged quietly. "Or did you…?" She trailed off as Morrible's claw like fingers curled painfully around her petite hand.

"Now you listen here _missy_," the abruptly menacing woman snarled. Glinda shrank before her predatory glare. "You may have fooled everyone else with your 'aren't I good?' routine, but I know better." Madame Morrible pressed Glinda's stomach up against the railing of their balcony, forcing her to face the bloodthirsty citizens that adored her for being everything Elphaba opposed. "You wanted this from the beginning," Morrible hissed in the blonde's ear. Glinda mechanically shook her head in horrified denial, even as the words rang true. "And now you're getting what you wanted, so just smile and wave." Tears trickled down the good witch's disgusted, guilty face. "And shut up," the press secretary added for good measure. Glinda wrenched herself away and fled.

From the platform Morrible called out her blessing. "Good fortune witch hunters!"

**By the way I'm devoting my November to National Novel Writing Month, so my updates may not be as often as you're used to…sorry…**


	32. The Shattering of Oz

***squeal* 'The Good Witch of the South' was nominated for the Wicked Awards…thanks so much to 'avid wicked reader' and 'DEgreeniFYgravity' for your nominations…I'm flattered!**

**There will probably be one more chapter of this (possibly two) and then an epilogue...I hope you all read to the end :)**

If Leyen had been standing any closer to the reveling horde of witch hunters she wouldn't have heard the sob. It wasn't particularly loud or tragic, but the quiet cry was so lonely and hopeless that it made the blonde's heart ache. She tiptoed uncertainly towards the sound, letting it lead her into the dark alleyway between two shops. A mass of glittery fabric was collapsed on the gritty cobblestones, whimpering.

At first the good witch felt a prick of angry resentment upon seeing Glinda's weeping form. While both of Leyen's best friends had been torn viciously away, the petite blonde had actively participated in persecuting hers. Even now Glinda stood by, crying like a child, while Elphaba was hunted by a band of bloodthirsty Munchkinlanders. It made Leyen want to splash her with a bucketful of cold water.

However Glinda's tears were those of a bewildered girl whose entire world had been shaken apart. They were like Leyen's tears at Purus's death, and the southern witch understood that, had the world not trodden so rudely on her innocence all those years ago, she might've one day faced this same dilemma as a woman.

Leyen stood in the lighted entranceway to the alley for a long moment, watching Glinda as she slowly realized that they were, in the grand scheme of things, allies. They were part of a small and dwindling group that had seen behind the Wizard's emerald curtain.

Tonight there was a charged, anxious aura in the air; as if the ultimate fate of Oz itself would soon be decided. Everything, and every major player in this game, seemed to be rushing towards some unknown climax. Elphaba. Leyen. The Wizard. Madame Morrible. And Glinda too. Glinda was the last potent figure, the last witch, to pick a side. She was still undecided, still torn between loyalty and instinct; friendship and adoration.

And Leyen knew in that moment that, due to fate, or perhaps God's, shuffling of the cards, it was Glinda who would ultimately decide whether good or evil won this battle.

/

Glinda couldn't breathe. Many years' worth of repressed guilt had gathered into a dense, unmovable boulder that now pressed solidly against her delicate chest. Tears coursed down the blonde's face, trailing inky mascara and turning her beautiful eyes red.

_Glinda come with me. Think of what we could do; together. Together we're unlimited._

More sobs wracked the petite woman as she crouched among unfeeling, graystone walls. If only she'd gone with her friend that fateful day. If only she'd been able to turn away from love and adoration for the sake of doing something undeniably right. Walking away from her best friend, from the one person who believed she could be more than a pretty face, had been Glinda's first mistake, but she knew there'd been plenty more in the years following. Every single one haunted her now, like a trail of dark, clinging shadows.

She had submitted and accepted a position with the man Elphaba so staunchly opposed.

She had refused to see who Fiyero's heart truly belonged to, even when it was staring her in the face.

She had suggested that the best way to catch Elphaba was to put Nessarose at risk.

"Glinda?"

The blonde attempted to swallow her sobs, but the result was a loud, messy hiccup. "I'm sorry," she sniffled, trying to sound like someone who wasn't in the midst of a personal breakdown. "Could you come back later? I'm a bit busy right now."

"Glinda it's me. Leyen."

"Oh." Hearing the other witch's voice, so full of concern, only drove the knife of anguish deeper into Glinda's heart. Leyen and Elphaba hadn't been particularly close, but even the naive, southern girl had been brave enough to stand up and help her green friend.

"Glinda what's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" the blonde snapped bitterly, voice strained. "What's _wrong_? Don't talk to me that way. Don't talk to me like I'm not a wicked, horrendible person."

"Glinda you're far from…"

"No I'm not," she wailed. "I let Elphie down, and now she's going to die because of it. Because of me." Glinda collapsed into tears again. She hunched over, clutching her stomach as if the raging, nagging shame there could be squeezed out.

The good witch felt one of Leyen's soft, gentle hands slide over her shaking shoulder and squeeze. "Glinda, she knew what she was doing. Fabala's actions were _her_ choice; don't take that away from her."

"I should've been there," the smaller woman argued. "I'm her best friend Leyen. How could I just stand there and let the world hate her for being different when I knew who she was underneath all that cynical aggression? How could I take part in damning her and her cause? I should've stood up. I should've done _something_." Glinda's hands balled into fists.

"All my life I was certain of what I wanted. Certain. And when Elphaba asked me to go with her, I made a choice. I chose the easy life I thought I wanted over changing the world with her. But I chose wrong." She cackled bitterly. "I always did need Elphie. Without her I couldn't ever be anything more than pretty, airheaded Galinda. If only I'd _known_…"

Glinda's ranting trailed off into memories then.

Leyen was silent for a long, thoughtful moment. Then she gently took the blonde's trembling hand in her own. "Maybe Elphaba needs you this time," she whispered. The southern witch backed away, and Glinda was surprised to find that she'd left a crumpled scrap of paper in her palm.

It was a scribbled set of directions to Kiamo Ko.

/

There was a time when Chistery was bitter about the wings Elphaba had given him. Now the primate loved them. He loved the freedom. He loved being able to keep pace with the birds he found so interesting. He loved spying on the world from above.

After a night of rest Chistery was on another nighttime pilgrimage across Oz. Leyen had suggested he take a detour over Quadling Country, mostly to avoid the Emerald City, but partially so he could tell Kucharo what was going on.

When Qhoyre's nest of lights came into view Chistery veered sideways. As he slowly descended the air became thick with moisture and warmth. Bats wisped by in the darkness. Frogs and insects kept up a never ceasing chorus of chirping. There were only a few torches burning in Kwane that evening, and their light dappled across the river like swamp fire. Predictably Kucharo was sleeping in Leyen's old hut, since the couple hadn't had time to construct their own yet.

The sharp faced quadling jumped when Chistery landed suddenly beside him. Then, when Kucharo recognized his visitor, he stiffened in worry. "Where is…?"

The Monkey held out a letter, one of the two he was carrying, in reply. As Kucharo read Leyen's hasty words his posture relaxed. _Yenlay has gotten herself mixed up in dangerous business,_ Chistery warned on his slate. _She never says anything, but there is reason to worry. _The quadling nodded. His mouth wrinkled into a frown.

"Would you like a place to rest?" he asked Chistery in a distracted voice.

_No, _the Monkey replied. _I must get to Elphaba as soon as possible. _

"Alright." There was a plan flickering in the depths of Kucharo's deep, dark eyes. "Yenlay left Quagmire here. How long would it take me to get to Munchkin Land?"

_Two, maybe three days. _

The quadling nodded sharply, decisively, and smiled at Chistery. "Thank you."

The Monkey grinned in response and took off with a few, leathery wing beats.

**Just one or two more chapters...maybe if I drag this story out long enough it will finish after the Wicked awards are out so I'll know whether or not it won anything…or maybe I could just take forever to update *evil grin*…**


	33. Friendship Doesn't End With Death

**Yes, I know that Leyen isn't in this chapter, but I just had to do the For Good scene because, while beautiful, it also happens to be one of the most confusing scenes in the musical if you think back on it…there are so many questions; Who wrote the letter (Fiyero, a Monkey, or another source)? What did the letter say (obviously something regarding the fact that Fiyero was a scarecrow due to the 'we've seen his face for the last time' comment)? Was Elphaba already planning to fake her death, or was the plan hatched in the letter (it seems more likely that she was already planning it, or else why would she already have a trapdoor and bucket lying around?)? Why in Oz was there a random green curtain in Kiamo Ko? Why didn't Glinda do anything when she saw the silhouettes of the Witch Hunters attacking Elphaba? Here's my explanation…**

Chistery reached Kiamo Ko later than he'd intended due to an encounter with a desert windstorm. He landed on one of the castle's many balconies and scurried inside. Mirbo, the Monkey's teenage brother, was waiting. Chistery held up the message from Leyen in explanation.

Mirbo commandeered his brother's slate and scrawled out a message. _Leave the letter with me; she's too unwound to pay it any attention right now. You've got to speak with her. _Chistery nodded solemnly.

/

Elphaba knew she wasn't being logical and, for the first time in her life, she wasn't in denial about it. The green woman had recognized, even embraced, the fact that her forceful emotions were completely out of control. They had a right to be, after all. She'd lost everything; her sister, her lover, probably her best friend. And her cause. Soon, one way or another, the Wicked Witch of the West would be no more and the Wizard would be free to reign unabated.

Elphaba had prepared a magically operated trap door. A bucket of water stood beside Kiamo Ko's small well, waiting to be placed within convenient reach of whoever entered the room. However the witch wasn't sure if she wanted to go through with Leyen's plan. In fact the trapdoor and bucket were really just a distant option at this point. Elphaba had just about made up her mind to let them kill her. What difference would it make to anyone? There was only a sliver of uncertainty, a spark of her old fire pulling the desperate woman back.

Below Dorothy pounded on a different trap door, this one leading into the castle's dank dungeon. Elphaba didn't really want to kill the girl, just scare her. And get those shoes if she could. The green woman thought that maybe, if she could hold those last gifts to Nessa, the world might seem a little brighter, a little more survivable.

"For Oz sakes stop crying," Elphaba shouted at the sniveling girl beneath her floorboards. "I can't listen to it anymore." She roughly slammed open one of the dudgeon's many entrance trapdoors. "If you want to see your Aunt Em and Uncle What's-His-Name again, then get those shoes off your feet." Elphaba was furious that Dorothy, who was loved by nearly everyone and had only been briefly separated from her loved ones, had the _nerve_ to cry in her presence. She kicked the trapdoor shut again and resumed pacing.

"Creepy little brat," the witch muttered. "Who steals a dead woman's shoes? She must've been raised in a barn!" It was at that moment that Chistery fluttered into Elphaba's chamber and settled on a windowsill. "Chistery where are the others?" she demanded, having asked the other Monkeys to convene in her rooms only a few minutes earlier. The primate sunk a hand into his pockets, searching for his writing slate. Elphaba groaned. "Chistery if you don't at least try to keep speaking…" Her words were interrupted by the door creaking open.

It was Glinda. She stood at the top of the staircase, tiara askew and dress ruffled from what must've been a long and hurried journey. Elphaba's crushed, broken heart couldn't quite decide how to react. Eventually it settled on firm and total indifference.

"Go away," Elphaba growled. This was her demise, she wasn't about to drag her one last friend down too.

"They're coming for you," the blonde squeaked.

"Go away," Elphaba repeated.

"Let the little girl go," Glinda ordered, "and that poor little dog, Dodo." She daintily trotted further down the stairs. "I know you don't want to hear this, but someone has got to say it," Glinda continued. "You're out of control. I mean, come on, they're just shoes; let it go!"

Elphaba turned stubbornly away until the approaching blonde brushed her elbow. "Elphie please, you can't go on like this," she exclaimed.

"I can do whatever I want," Elphaba snarled, whirling away. "I am the _Wicked Witch of the West_." Mirbo interrupted the green woman's pacing.

"At last," Elphaba cried, assuming he'd brought news of her lover's whereabouts. "What took you so long?" Dead or alive she had to know where Yero was. Mirbo offered an envelope and the witch's forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "What is this?" she demanded, ripping it open. "Why are you bothering me with…?" Elphaba's voice trailed into silence as she began reading.

"What is it?" Glinda demanded. "What's wrong?" The green woman was entirely unable to respond. "It's Fiyero isn't it? Is he…?"

Elphaba swallowed thickly as life returned to her shattered heart. Only the utter gravity of the situation kept her from laughing out loud. Yero was alive, which meant the plan was back on. Now all she had to do was ensure that Glinda didn't get mixed up in all of this. "We've seen his face for the last time," the witch told her friend solemnly. It wasn't technically a lie.

"No!" Glinda cried in anguish.

"You're right," Elphaba told the blonde distractedly. "It's time. I surrender." She grabbed the bucket, preparing to move it into place.

"What are you doing?"

"You can't be found here," she told Glinda. "You must go."

"No!"

"You must."

"No," Glinda all but shrieked. Though tears glinted in her eyes the blonde's jaw was set with determination. "I'll go and tell them. I'll tell everyone the _truth_."

"Then they'll just turn against you," Elphaba pointed out.

"I don't care," Glinda snarled, glaring into her friend's eyes. A spark of warmth lit in the green girl's heart. This was the OzDust Ballroom all over again, except now the stakes were much, much higher.

"Well I do," Elphaba insisted softly. She couldn't let Glinda try and save her this time. "Promise me you won't try to clear my name."

"No!"

"_Promise!_" There was a moment of tense stillness.

"Alright," Glinda whimpered. "I promise." She took a sharp step backwards. "But I don't understand."

Elphaba looked at her situation, at the way the whole world was falling in on her, and finally accepted that she couldn't fight it all anymore. "I'm limited," she admitted softly. "Just look at me. I'm limited." The witch's eyes focused fervently on Glinda. Glinda, who had the world on her side. Glinda, who had all the power for change Elphaba wanted and didn't know how to use it. The green woman thought briefly of Leyen, so desperate to carry out her best friend's dying wish. Perhaps the Wizard didn't have to win.

"And just look at you," Elphaba told her friend gently. "You can do all I couldn't do." The blonde looked downwards, as if in denial of Elphaba's statement, but the witch lifted her chin. "Glinda." She walked towards Chistery, who held the Grimmerie in preparation for their escape from Kiamo Ko, and reverently took the ancient spellbook.

Glinda looked almost frightened when Elphaba offered it to her. "Here." The blonde shook her head. "Go on, take it."

"Oh Elphie," Glinda gasped. "You know I can't read that."

"Then you'll have to learn," Elphaba insisted. She lovingly pressed her most prized possession into Glinda's arms. "Because now it's up to you; for both of us. Now it's up to you."

/

"I have been changed for good."

Encircled by Elphaba's arms, Glinda understood the significance of the moment. She could feel it thrumming through the air like a thousand bees. Elphie was asking her to defy gravity again, and there was no way she could say no this time. Even if it meant letting the Witch Hunters do their worst. Glinda knew Elphaba was asking her to put the fate of Oz before their friendship, even before the green woman's life. It was a terrifying, heartbreaking, prospect, but the blonde had to do it. She owed Elphaba at least that much.

From the moment they parted in the Emerald City the two witches had been limited. Elphaba possessed the drive and passion, but no power. Glinda held power, and the capacity to gain more power, but she was never quite brave enough to use it for anything of significance. Together they might've changed Oz.

Now they would have to settle for changing one another. Elphaba had taught Glinda, often through trial by fire, that there was much more to life than being adored, and the blonde had done what no one else could; she had managed to soften her green friend's stiff, uncompromising character.

A deep pounding sound jolted the women from their hug. "What was that?" Glinda demanded, voice high with fear.

"Hurry," Elphaba muttered, pushing her towards another part of the room. An old porcelain tub was back there, so Glinda assumed the space had once been used for bathing. "No one can know you were here," Elphaba explained, seizing a bucket from where she'd left it on the floor. A thin, green, privacy curtain divided the bathing area from the rest of the room, and the witch began dragging it across Glinda's field of view. "Hide yourself," she instructed.

Before the curtain was completely closed Elphaba gave her best friend one last look. It conveyed a thousand emotions at once and begged Glinda to trust her. At such an expression the blonde could do nothing but nod in consent. She would go through with whatever it was Elphaba had planned. She would trust that Elphie knew what she was doing.

It would take all the trust Glinda had to keep her still in the following minutes.

**THIS IS NOT THE END! Leyen hasn't gotten her ending and, really, neither has Glinda…**

**So just hang on and don't leave me yet…there's still one last chapter and an epilogue…originally this chapter was just going to be the last chapter, but then it got too long so I had to split it in half…**


	34. The Murder and Its Afterlife

**You will all probably hate me by the end of this chapter, but remember that there is an epilogue (which will hopefully at least lessen that hate) so REMEMBER TO READ THE EPILOGUE!**

**IMPORTANT: I would recommend going back and re-reading this story before you read the ending; that always seems to make the effect greater…just a suggestion**

The suspense was so intense that Leyen could hardly breathe. There had been no news for three days and she, along with all of Oz, was squirming under the pressure of simply_ wondering_. Wondering if the Witch Hunters had been successful. Wondering if the Wicked Witch was gone. Wondering where Lady Glinda had suddenly disappeared to right when everyone needed her most.

Wondering who had been triumphant.

Leyen was utterly terrified. The plan she'd mapped out for Elphaba had been simple and riddled with unfortunate variables. Elphaba's ending could've gone either way.

_Relax, _the blonde instructed herself. _Fiyero went with the Witch Hunters. He'd never let anything happen to Fabala. _Just as Leyen was beginning to calm someone marched down the hallway outside her room in heavy boots. The good witch went rigid in terror. Her icy posture didn't relax until the stomping noise passed her door and moved on.

Sometime last night Leyen had realized that, after her wedding, she'd halted all communication with the Emerald City and, to someone like Madame Morrible, such behavior would look like outright betrayal. Especially with Oz's fate hanging in the balance. Now every time the inn's walls creaked she imagined the Gale Force coming to arrest her.

Leyen settled wearily back in her chair and wondered how much longer she could deal with this. Surely news would come soon. It took about two days to reach Kiamo Ko by foot, which meant the Witch Hunters were almost out of the Vinkus by now.

"Yen…lay?"

The blonde whipped around to see Chistery leaning in her window. His drooping wings were backlit by the setting sun. Leyen couldn't move; the apprehension was so powerful. She didn't even register that her mute friend was speaking again. "Well?" the good witch whispered, trembling.

A grin split Chistery's weary face. "We w..on," he stuttered proudly, conveying all she needed to hear in two wonderful words.

Before Leyen had a chance to celebrate a heavy knock sounded on the door. Her jubilant expression froze. "Hide," she hissed. Chistery obediently crawled under the bed. "Hello?" Leyen called warily.

"I'm looking for Princess Locasta," came a cheeky voice in Qua'ati. "Do you know where I might find her?"

Leyen pulled the door aside in disbelief. It seemed almost impossible that Kucharo, who had never been out of Quadling Country in his life, had managed to track her down. Yet there he was, grinning like he'd just won a medal. Seeing him brought Chistery's news back to the forefront of the blonde's mind. A tidal wave of excitement and relief washed over her all at once.

Leyen threw herself at Kucharo, kissing him joyously. "We won!" she exclaimed between teary kisses. "We won Kucha. We won."

/

The Wicked Witch's death, and the Wizard's departure, was announced that evening over Nest Hardings by none other than Lady Glinda herself. She floated over the town, where people were hanging out of windows in order to catch every word, with the Grimmerie clutched in her arms. Below, on one of the stands formerly used for the Witch Hunters, Madame Morrible was held in chains by two palace guards. Glinda had wanted Elphaba's greatest adversary to see that the green girl had won, in the end. This speech was for Elphie and the blonde hoped that, wherever she was, her friend might possibly hear it.

"Fellow Ozians," Glinda began. She frowned, realizing how removed and artificial her trademark opener sounded. "_Friends_. We have been through afrightening time, and there will be other times, and other things that frighten us." The good witch sucked in a deep breath. She herself was frightened. In fact she was desperately afraid to try and be anything more than Galinda Upland without Elphie. She was afraid to defy gravity, to make a change, alone. "But if you'd let me, I'd like to try to help," Glinda swore to the trusting, manipulated people below. "I'd like to try to be Glinda the _Good_."

As she said those words the blonde had a vision of sorts. It was almost like the ones Elphaba had confided in her at Shiz; just a jumbled, blurry image. But it _felt_ so real.

Glinda saw Elphaba standing beside Fiyero, smiling. Not just smiling, but smiling at her. Thankfully. Proudly. The green girl's lips were moving, forming familiar, bittersweet words.

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But, because I knew you, I have been changed for good. _

/

As Leyen watched Glinda deliver her speech she felt a deep peace settled over her. Things would only get better from here on out; she was sure of it.

"What's she saying?" Kucharo whispered in the blonde's ear. He knew only a few words in Common Ozian, which made the quadling's pilgrimage to Munchkin Land even more extraordinary.

Leyen smiled. "Glinda's saying…well she's promising to make everything right in Oz. And she means it too. That girl's going to do what Elphaba never could." The good witch grinned as she continued her analysis of Glinda's speech. "She's also saying that Oz's witches aren't needed anymore. She's saying that they can go back home to Quadling Country and start a life with the people they love."

"Really?" Kucharo asked, smirking. "She said all that?"

"Yep," Leyen nodded. "I think it's time for me to disappear. I'm not needed anymore." The blonde's tone was somewhere between sadness and joy.

"You'll always be needed Princess," Kucharo assured his wife. "I need you. Iban needs you. Our unborn children need you." Leyen leaned contentedly into the quadling's side.

"I'm not complaining Aro," she explained. "It'll just be odd to put all this adventure behind me." Glinda's speech was over, and her bubble was beginning to drift away. In a few minutes Leyen and Kucharo would begin the journey home to Kwane, but for now the blonde had no intention of moving. She was quite content to stand relaxed among unfamiliar munchkinlanders and contemplate the future.

As she mused Leyen's eyes drifted lazily across the crowd. Eventually they hitched on Madame Morrible, who stood guarded and bound in chains on a raised platform. For some reason the former press secretary's lips were moving.

Leyen blinked, puzzled. Then a block of ice dropped into her stomach. Madame Morrible was _chanting_. Hardly knowing why, the blonde began to run. She left Kucharo and shoved her way through the throng of much shorter people, eyes fixed on Morrible. As the good witch drew closer Madame Morrible's spell concluded. Her bindings crumbled to dust.

The two Gale Force soldiers turned to restrain their charge, but she fought back. They toppled Madame Morrible to the ground even as the fish-woman lashed out with shock spells. Leyen reached the base of the platform just as Morrible was wresting a rifle from one of the guards. She watched, horrified, as the one-time headmistress took aim at Glinda's retreating form from the ground.

Leyen had a slow motion second to make her choice. She could hear Kucharo calling for her from behind, his confused voice full of love and concern. However he was ultimately just one voice in a crowd of hundreds of munchkinlanders. They, along with thousands more, would be thrown into turmoil if Glinda the Good was killed like this.

Many had sacrificed their lives so this day could come to Oz and Leyen wasn't going to watch as one moment brought it all crashing down.

So she threw herself forward.

/

Morrible's bullet caught Leyen in the stomach. When the projectile hit the world seemed to go silent. There was nothing but the resounding shot, and then Leyen's body hitting the platform. Everyone stared, open mouthed and shocked. They didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react. Even Madame Morrible seemed disgusted at what she had done. Leyen seemed too pure, too innocent, to die like this. It simply rang wrong, in every sense of the word.

Then, as noise bled back into the world, Kucharo's voice cried out. "No!"

He knelt, scooping Leyen into his arms. A red stain leaked across her dress. There was no way to recover from this, no magic that could bring her back. Leyen's eyes were dimming even as she looked up into Kucharo's devastated face. "Why Yenlay?" he demanded breathlessly. "Why?"

She smiled weakly, her lips twitching into a sad smile. "I'm sorry Kucha," she mumbled. "I love you too much…I love you…more than life."

"But this wasn't for me," Kucharo exclaimed, choking on air.

"It was," the blonde insisted gently. "It was for every..." She coughed violently and blood spattered the quadling's chest.

"No Yenlay," he gasped. "No. Don't leave me. Not like this. Not now."

"I'm sorry," Leyen murmured again, fainter this time. Her eyes were falling closed. "Oz doesn't… need me… anymore." Then, for a moment, her voice seemed to get stronger, more certain. "I'm going home."

And then the Good Witch of the South died. She went limp in her lover's arms, and Kucharo collapsed. He crumpled, weeping, onto the platform, arms still wrapped around his beloved Princess. Leyen's engagement bracelet pressed into the quadling's arm, a cruel reminder of the short time they'd had together.

/

They said that the night Leyen died Quadling Country was silent. No frogs croaked. No bugs swarmed. No birds chattered. The fireflies went dim. Clouds muffled the moon and the pattering rain stopped falling. The only noise was a single river dog howling into the oddly chilly air.

When news came the next night, that Princess Locasta had been killed, not one fire could be seen in the swamps. Every village, no matter how far away, sent representatives to Kwane for her funeral. They brought beautiful things, flowers and rubies and well woven mats, to place on her funeral pyre. Each stepped forward from the circle and deposited their gift with a nod of immeasurable thanks and respect.

One figure stood at the edge of the torchlight, next to Chistery, covered from head to toe in a cloak. Its hood hid her features, but not the unmistakable gleam of tears. When it was her turn she shuffled forward, head bowed, and placed an emerald beside Leyen. The blonde wore her wedding dress and the smallest, most unnoticeable of grins pulled up the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you," the tall figure whispered. "I would've never asked this sacrifice of you, but I am more grateful than there are words to explain. You have saved this nation but…but I wish it had been me. It should've been me. You didn't deserve to die for my cause."

Chistery hobbled forward and added a bouquet of butterfly roses to the pile. Then he and the mysterious visitor departed.

Iban graced the pyre with an unremarkable piece of bogwood. On the token was carved the quadling character for faith. When Kucharo stepped forward he did nothing but stand gazing into his wife's still, peaceful face, smiling even in death. "I love you Princess," the quadling whimpered brokenly. "And I'll miss you. But I promise…" Here he trailed off, choked up. "But I _promise_ not to forget what you taught me. I'll try to see goodness in the world even when…even when the world looks as dark as it does now."

The funeral was nearly over when Lady Glinda arrived. She'd obviously had more than a little trouble making her way so deep into the swampland. "I'm sorry," the blonde apologized, unsure if anyone could even understand her. "Am I too late…?" The good witch trailed off when Chistery came forward and took her hand.

He led Glinda to the pyre, where the blonde burst into tears. Guilt welled up inside her heart and threatened to drown it. Everyone she'd known at Shiz, _everyone_, was dead. They'd left her; the least deserving yet the one to whom the most had come. Nearly unable to face the woman who'd died for her, Glinda removed a teardrop shaped ruby, found among Nessarose's possessions, and placed it on the southern witch's chest.

"I'll keep Oz safe," Glinda swore through her tears. "You and Elphie won't have died in vain; I'll see to it that the Animals and quadlings are never persecuted again." Then the petite woman walked away, hoping that someday she'd be good enough to deserve what she got.

When everyone had said their piece the pyre was lowered into the river. Iban placed a triangular wooden structure over Leyen, covered that with a shroud, and then lit the entire thing. Kucharo watched, devastated, as the blazing pyre drifted away into the night, borne by a slow, methodical current. "May Heway guide you home," he whispered.

"And may those who are waiting greet you with open arms," Iban finished.

**PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME NOW; READ THE EPILOGUE!**

…**and please don't think I'm one of those heartless morbid authors who randomly kills off everyone in the end…this ending was planned from the beginning and, as I got more and more attached to Leyen, I warred between giving her the ending she deserved and the ending that this story needed; I cried so hard writing this that I often had to stop and calm down because I couldn't see the keyboard**


	35. Epilogue

**This story has been a big part of my life for a year (I started developing the idea and doing research in December of 2009) and it hurts like hell knowing that I will no longer be able to spend time with these characters I've grown to love like they are real people. Most of all I will miss Leyen. About halfway through this story she evolved from a list of mannerisms and character traits into an actual person. A person who I abruptly had no control over. Now she just reacts to things in my writing and I figure out **_**why**_** she reacted that way later…it's actually a little spooky.**

**This story will stay with me always and, no matter which path my writing takes, it will have a special place in my heart. I will sincerely miss everyone who reviewed so faithfully. I will miss hearing your valuable critiques (I would like to give a special thanks to The Witch's Cat who gave me some of the best and also most helpful and detailed reviews of my life) I was honored to have you all go on this journey with me. There are not words to express how thankful I am. **

**I hope that you will continue to read my new stories. I'm attempting another 'serious' story called 'The Winged Witch' but I doubt it will ever be as good as this one. **

**Enjoy!**

Leyen was walking through a field of poppies. They were a little taller than she was and made a canopy of wrinkled, scarlet blossoms above her head. As she moved a sense of anticipation possessed the good witch, as though something immeasurably wonderful was waiting for her. She moved faster and the light filtering between thick, green poppy stalks became brighter and brighter.

Leyen stepped out of the poppies and onto an expanse of green. Gently rolling hills, swathed in soft, thick, grass spread out towards the blindingly brilliant horizon. Between the blonde and that far off light were a gathering of people. Most were standing far enough away that their faces were indistinguishable, but a small group of two waited close by.

"Yenlay!" One of the nearer people, dressed in a well woven quadling dress, came running towards Leyen.

"Purus?" The blonde had just enough time to register that, yes, the girl sprinting towards her was in fact an old friend, when Purus tackled her.

"Yenlay I've missed you so much!" the quadling exclaimed.

Leyen couldn't speak, for she suddenly found her throat constricted with emotion. "Sweet Oz," she managed to choke out. "Purus I…" Tears poured down the blonde's face as she hugged her little sister tightly.

When Purus drew back Leyen scrutinized her. "You're all grown up," she remarked in surprise, realizing that her little sister was a young woman now.

"So are you," the quadling countered, grinning. Fieb, the figure who had been standing beside Purus, approached. She, unlike Purus, looked slightly younger. Years no longer weighed on her body.

"Fieb!" Leyen exclaimed, stepping forward to receive an embrace from her adopted-mother. "I've missed you."

"And we you," Fieb replied softly.

"That's why we were the ones to greet you," Purus explained. "Everyone else is waiting further back."

"They are?" Leyen turned to look at the mass of far off people. They were a mixture of races and ethnicities; Gillikinese, munchkin, quadling, Vinkun. The blonde was sure she didn't know that many people.

"Well, almost everyone," Purus admitted. Her voice grew sad, drawing the good witch's attention.

"What do you mean?" Leyen asked in puzzlement. Fieb sighed.

"Some people are so attached to another person still in Oz, or so stubbornly stuck to their beliefs, that they choose to stay in the poppies," she informed the blonde.

It took Leyen only a second to realize what Fieb was saying. Her eyes widened. "But Nessa wasn't…I mean she wouldn't…" The good witch trailed off in sorrow. "Oh Nessa." It felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of her.

Of all the people Leyen had been ready to see again, Nessarose had been one of the foremost. Now it seemed as though her friend, so staunchly Unionist, had refused to accept this happy reality and chosen to remain in a sort of limbo. A single tear trickled down Leyen's cheek.

"Will she ever come out?"

"When she's ready," Fieb replied gently. As the three reunited loved ones stood there on the grass another figure emerged from the wall of poppies. Leyen looked up and drew in a sharp breath.

It was Nessa. She was wearing a simple blue dress, more reminiscent of her happy days at Shiz than the strict governor she'd become, and had her features pulled into a look of absolute glee. And she was standing. Barefoot. Without a chair. Without enchanted shoes.

Leyen watched her in shock for a moment. Then dawn broke across the good witch's face. She rushed forward and toppled Nessarose onto the grass. "Sweet Oz, Nessa I thought you were going to be your proud, unyielding self and stay in there for a couple lifetimes," she cried in a rush of laughter and tears.

"I was just waiting for you," the brunette explained. She looked sheepish. "I was scared actually. Even after all my preaching I'm terrified to actually meet the Unnamed God. I mean, I was wrong about so many things. There are people here that I would've thought would be damned."

"But why were you waiting for me?" Leyen's confused expression did little to soften the unadulterated joy on her face.

"Because you seemed to understand it all better," Nessarose confided. "I mean, you were on a first name basis with the Unnamed God. Or Heway. Or whatever He's really called. I thought it would be better to have you with me."

"Oh." Leyen considered this for a moment and then pulled her friend in for a spontaneous hug. "I missed you _so_ much. It was like losing a sister. I felt like…like there was a hole punched through my gut."

Nessa squeezed the blonde tighter in response. "Is Elphaba alright?" she wondered against Leyen's shoulder. The brunette choke whimpered. "I said such awful things to her. She must hate me."

"Nessa, your sister could never hate you," Leyen replied. "She and Fiyero went into hiding, mostly, I think, because it was your dying wish that she be safe. I think it will be a long time before they join us here."

Nessa's eyes widened in relief. "Thank Oz."

"Come on Nessa, Yenlay!" Purus called from a few feet away. "_He's_ waiting, and so is everyone else."

Leyen pulled Nessa to her feet. "Are you ready?"

The brunette straightened into stiff, formal, posture, an old reflex. "I think so."

So they walked forward, into eternity.

/

Kucharo stood on the bridge where he and Leyen had shared their first kiss. As usual, on such a clear night, the air was thick with fireflies. Little bouquets of flowers were tucked into the latticework; gifts from villagers in the area. The bridge, now called Locasta's Crossing, was a memorial to Leyen. It was nice to see that people cared and remembered her, but there were times when Kucharo resented sharing this place. Tonight he ached for the days when it belonged to just him and Leyen.

Tears dripped from Kucharo's eyes, mixing with the current below. It had been a year and he still could hardly spend more than an hour without _something_ picking his heart apart again. Sometimes it was a particularly vivid butterfly rose or girlish laughter that was almost as perfect and untainted as hers. Kucharo knew, deep down, that Leyen wouldn't have approved of the sorrowful whirlpool his life had become, but there wasn't much the quadling could do about it.

She'd left him here without so much as a single sign to bolster his faltering faith in the world. To Leyen the world was full of Heway's magic and love and family. To Kucharo it was devoid of anything but cold, heartless logic and pain and fear; even when things were improving drastically under the reign of Glinda the Good.

More bitter drops of saltwater plopped into the river. "How could you just leave me like this Princess?" Kucharo demanded quietly of the still, summer air. "You were like the sun. Without you I can't seem to keep the darkness at bay."

A gentle, cajoling breeze ruffled Kucharo's raven locks. When he continued glaring down at the water it became more incessant, tugging his chin upwards. Startled, the quadling finally looked up. The fireflies were denser than usual. They swirled and zigzagged in front of Kucharo in unusual, unnatural patterns until, eventually, the flying insects stopped their movement and simply hovered.

Kucharo watched them closely and, in a fit of realization, felt his knees go weak. Tears poured down his face in long streams. It was the sign he'd all but prayed for, spelled out in gleaming, pulsing fireflies.

_I love you. _

If that wasn't Heway's magic Kucharo didn't know what was.

/

Ozian history did not remember Leyen. Her moment of heroism, which few important people had witnessed anyway, was soon shoved aside, because, on the surface, she'd had no other part in what came to be known as the Witch Revolution. It was the first and last time that Oz's four segments were divided between four witches. It was also the first and last time that a revolution was won by four young women with the luck, or misfortune, to be called witches.

Children in school were taught the basics; Glinda the Good versus the Wicked Witches. Eventually they would learn about the Witch Hunters and the Wizard, but that was for later, when things were no longer black and white.

One day, for the sake of public image, Glinda the Good, ruler of Oz, was invited to tell stories at one of the Emerald City's older and more prestigious primary schools. Usually she told ones about the Wizard's downfall, until some particularly bloodthirsty child asked for something about how the Wicked Witches were killed. However today the children, who sat on velvet cushions in a circle, got creative; one little girl requested a new story.

It took Glinda only a moment to think of whose story she could tell. Elphaba may have forbidden her to clear her name, but Leyen had not. "Alright, I've got a new story," the blonde began thoughtfully, sadly, "It's called The Good Witch of the South."

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed. It's been a wonderful ride. God bless you all!**

**-Leia Emberblaze**


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